My Life Had Stood
by JeichanHaka
Summary: 3 years, 4 months and 13 days have passed since Reid lost Maeve. Now someone new is about to enter his life, but is it possible he's been given a second chance? Or is there a deeper reason for how familiar Alsie seems? Meanwhile, a BAU case leads to a conspiracy involving James Rossi that forces David Rossi to face a nightmare he never thought possible. Cont in: And Carried Me Away
1. In Corners Till a Day

My Life Had Stood

 _Chapter One_

The café booth was fairly lit and situated next to the window. The curtains were a deep maroon, same as the cushioned seats. The table itself was a varnished mahogany. Spencer fiddled with his coffee cup and the book he'd brought with him. He wondered for the nth time why he agreed to this meeting.

His brown eyes searched the passerby flooding the sidewalk in front of the café. He fidgeted, fiddling again with the book before taking out his cell phone. He stared at the screen, wishing for the nineteenth time since entering the café that he'd be called into work. The fifty-seventh time since he awoke that morning that he wished a case would force him to cancel this meeting.

He also wished that he hadn't confided in Rossi about the call, nor that he'd been convinced to respond to it.

" _Some years back, I gave my number to a waitress written in roman numerals." Spencer had told Rossi after the older man had noticed him deep in thought after a case. "She called me two days ago, wanting to meet."_

 _Rossi tilted his head, listening to Spencer. "Are you?" He asked._

"… _.what?" Spencer replied, distracted by his thoughts long enough to miss the question._

" _Are you going to meet her?"_

" _Spencer hesitated. "I don't know. It's been years…."_

" _And yet she called you. After deciphering your number from roman numerals." Rossi added. "Most women wouldn't have bothered and would've tossed the note away."_

" _...yes." Spencer conceded, understanding what Rossi meant. A woman who would take the time and effort to decipher such a note from years ago was just as special as one who could figure it out right away. There was just one snag. "I don't want a relationship with anyone. I'm fine with my life how it is now."_

"… _." Rossi nodded, thinking. "It's been, what, three years since Maeve…."_

" _Three years, four months and thirteen days." Spencer replied before Rossi could finish. He was even tempted to pin the time down to the hours and seconds, but he instead kept that silent. He didn't want to reveal the extent to which he was still bound to the only woman he ever loved romantically._

" _Don't you think it's about time you tried to meet someone?" Rossi asked, reading Spencer's response in the younger agent's body language. He sighed. "It doesn't have to be romantic. Just a friendly chat. This waitress of yours did take the time to decipher the roman numerals you gave her and call you even after all these years."_

 _Spencer smiled demurely, more undecided than he'd been before._

"Hello?" A soft voice broke Spencer from his recollection and drew his gaze toward the petite woman standing next to his booth, a coffee cup in hand. His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"….You're not the woman from that club…." Spencer surveyed the woman that greeted him. Barely five foot two, and that was with the six inch pumps she wore, and roughly 115 pounds she gave him a curious yet reserved smile. His brown eyes took in her slightly wavy, burnt sienna hair and then the outfit she wore, before settling on her chocolate caramel eyes. This woman was a stranger but she wore the outfit the voice from the phone said she would.

"...No, that was Shelly. I…." She faltered, pulling a few strands of hair behind her left ear but leaving the wavy locks covering her right cheek where they were. After another false start, she gave another small, sheepish smile. She apologized the same moment Spencer started to ask who she was. "….sorry, Shelly said she had something to do and asked me to meet you instead….but…." The petite woman replied, shaking her head with the same sheepish smile. "This is obviously her trying to set me up on a date again…."

Spencer felt his confusion dissipate as he realized what was going on. The woman muttering about the well-meaning of friends and what could you do about it, caused his body and brain to relax.

"Yeah, I can relate…." Spencer returned the reserved smile, gesturing for the woman to sit. "I'm Spencer. Spencer Reid. I take it Shelly's your friend?" He asked, using the name of the woman he'd expected to meet.

"Um, yes." She sat down, placing her bag next to her on the cushioned seat and the coffee on the table. "I'm Alsie Schmidt. Short for Allison." She met Spencer's gaze, her own brain whirling with thought and hesitance. "Um...this is sort of awkward, but….I have no intention of dating, so this…."

"Oh, no. I understand. That actually makes this easier, since I have no intention of dating either." Spencer replied, feeling better than he had that entire morning. "I gave Shelly my number years ago and I felt that, since she deciphered the roman numerals and called after all this time, I should meet her to be polite. But…."

Alsie looked directly at Spencer at this part, her expression mixed between surprise and awe.

"You're roman numerals guy. Okay…." She nodded, her expression changing from shy to discerning. "It makes even more sense now…."

"What makes more sense?" Spencer asked, leaning forward. It felt strange being referred to as 'roman numerals guy'.

"Why Shelly set this up. You're not like the usual guys she tried to set me up with. Which is one reason why I didn't realize it until I greeted you." Alsie replied while rubbing her right eye, but making an effort to keep it as covered by her hair as possible. Spencer noticed some scarring around the outer edge of her eye. "I find a string of roman numerals in Shelly's apartment, decipher them, and here we are…."

Spencer returned his gaze to Alsie's eyes, his own filled with curiosity and surprise. "Wait…. _you_ deciphered my number?"

Alsie nodded. She took a sip of her coffee, her burnt sienna eyes studying Spencer. "It was almost a month ago, though. So I hadn't thought about it. I assumed Shelly either didn't call or called for herself. I didn't expect her to set this tryst up."

"...yeah, I didn't expect this either, and I work as a profiler…." Spencer replied, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Oh? Police? FBI?" Alsie asked, her curiosity roused.

"The latter. I work in the BAU, and…." Spencer paused, realizing then how much his stress had lessened over talking to Alsie. It was strange, how comfortable he felt with this woman he'd just met. It stemmed mostly from the relief at their being no expectation of romance between either of them, yet there was something else contributing. Something about the petite woman he couldn't pinpoint.

Before he could continue, his phone rang. A quick glance showed Hotch's number.

Giving an apologetic smile and saying goodbye to Alsie, Spencer answered the phone.

0

Spencer was still mentally dealing with the – using the vernacular – irony of the phone call's timing as he walked into the BAU. It was just coincidental, but after wanting to be called in to work the whole time before meeting Alsie, then receiving the call only after he no longer wanted it, he appreciated why people used the word ironic in such a situation.

He entered the meeting room, noting that only Lewis and Garcia were yet to arrive. He greeted the team succinctly and sat down, noticing yet avoiding Rossi's glance. The elder agent sat across the table from him.

"Sorry, I'm late." Lewis said as she entered the room not long after. She sat down in the empty seat next to Spencer.

"All right. Garcia's flight back from her vacation has been delayed, so she'll meet up with us later." Hotch spoke, standing up with the remote for the case projection screen. "Let's get started. Five days ago, the skeletal remains of a young girl, approximately ten years of age, were found buried nine miles from the Pennsylvania-West Virginia border. They were discovered by the construction crew working on a new housing development in the area."

"Any idea how long the remains were there?" Rossi questioned, perusing the file.

"Until this new housing project started construction the area was mostly undisturbed woodland. The last time any construction was down in the vicinity was over twenty-five years ago." Hotch replied. "Forensics is still working on analyzing the skeleton, but it's believed the victim was in the ground for about twenty years."

"Has the victim been identified?" Morgan asked, shifting his gaze from the tablet file in front of him to the projection screen.

"Not yet. Neither the DNA recovered from the scene nor the dental work of the victim match any of the children reported missing during that time frame."

"It says here that the victim suffered a blow to the head, as well as fractures in her hands and feet. Injuries similar to those suffered from people who fell from cliffs. Couldn't the victim have fallen from a height and simply been buried naturally by landslides and such?" Lewis asked.

"That's what local authorities thought at first. But analysis of the body and the remaining clothing, strongly suggests that the body was dragged before being buried. Possibly over state lines."

"So someone killed the victim, then dragged and buried her." Morgan said. "Any signs of sexual or physical abuse?"

"It's difficult to know for sure due to the decomposition, but the M.E. found no evidence of injury aside from the skull wound and fractures."

"...It's odd. Going by the M.E. report, the victim was not only a child but small for her age. An adult unsub wouldn't have needed to drag her." Spencer's brow furrowed as he spoke. "The victim may have been killed by someone around her own age."

"Wouldn't it be difficult for a child to kill another with a single blow to the head?"

"Not if the unsub pushed the victim from a cliff." Spencer replied. "The injuries to the victim's head and limbs are consistent with a fall from a height, like Lewis mentioned. If it wasn't for the evidence that the victim was dragged, it could be plausible that the death was accidental."

"...aside from the body being possibly dragged over state lines, why call in the BAU specifically?"

"Since the discovery of the first victim, two more bodies have been found baring striking similarities to the first." Hotch explained, pressing a button on the remote that brought up images of the next two victims. "These have been identified as Jessica Williams, age thirteen, and Brie Adams, age fifteen. Both show signs of being buried for years before discovery. A preliminary examination of the bodies indicates Williams was buried for around twelve years and Adams for five. Both suffered head injuries as well as fractures to the arms and legs. And both were found within seven to ten miles from the Pennsylvania-West Virginia border."

"If this is the same unsub, then he's aging along with his victims. So he'll possibly be in his late twenties to early thirties. So will his most recent victims." Rossi spoke, rubbing his upper lip in thought. "I take it that the local police are searching the area for more bodies?"

Hotch nodded. "Both the Pennsylvania and West Virginia police departments think they may have discovered a serial killer's dumping ground. If they have it's only a matter of time before they find more bodies. So far the public has been kept in the dark about the discoveries but people have started questioning why construction has been halted and why police have been searching the area."

"We need to be swift if we want to find our killer before he discovers we found his dumping ground and finds a new one. If he hasn't done so already."

Hotch agreed, addressing the group. "Wheels up in thirty."

0

"Giselle, have you seen my handbag? The one with the brown and tan stripes?" A red-haired woman with bunched up curls called out as she searched the rooms on the first floor. She'd just entered the house from the garage, noting the light on in her sister's room before she'd parked her car. "I want to wear it for my date tonight with Harry. Giselle?"

The woman paused at the bottom of the stairs, gazing upward. Concerned at the quiet, she ascended the stairs.

"Are you feeling all right?" Her voice traveled ahead of her. She managed to reach the top stair before something blunt smashed into her head. The impact caving in her head and causing her to tumble back down the stairs.

"Michelle!" Her sister called out before being once again muffled by the man who had struck down the redhead.

"You make one word and I'll rip your throat out." The man seethed in her ear, before forcing her to walk down stairs and over her sister's body.


	2. A Small Domain

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter Two:** A Small Domain

Garcia sighed as she entered her space at Quantico. The hassle of the airport flight back had been galling. Somehow her return flight ticket hadn't shown up in the airport's system, and by the time it'd been resolved she had missed her planned flight.

Thus she was just now getting into work, while the rest of her team were off on a case. It gnawed at her that such a small thing had postponed her helping out her team. She had almost been tempted to hack into the airport's system and solve the blip herself.

She sighed again, sitting down on her comfy chair. The sight of her computers awaiting her every whim, relieved the stress that had tensed up her back muscles. The spice chai latte she'd bought on the way in also helped.

"Now, let's see…." She started up her system, feeling more of her tensed muscles relax. Garcia sipped some of her latte, keen on forgetting about the hassle at the airport. As though on cue, her phone rang. She answered it, giving one of her witty greetings.

" _Garcia, I need you to look up some stuff." Hotch said, after greeting the tech analyst and mentioning that he was glad her flight delay was taken care of._

"Whatever you need, my liege." Garcia replied, her fingers readied above the keyboard.

0

"All right. Garcia is finding out what she can on our victims, including the two most recently discovered ones." Hotch said as he returned his cell phone to his pocket. None of them had wanted the search to discover more bodies but it didn't surprise them when the Pennsylvania police had greeted their arrival with that very news. Shortly after that, he had sent Rossi and Lewis to interview the victims' families, and JJ and Morgan to search the dump sites. "How's the geographic profile coming along, Reid?"

"It's coming along fine. Though not knowing where the first victim was taken as well as there possibly being more victims yet to be unearthed, it's a very rough sketch of the unsub's comfort zone." Spencer replied while placing a pin on the map reflecting where the most recently uncovered victim was found.

"Keep at it. And if more victims are found…." Hotch spoke, only to be interrupted by Andrew Myers, the chief lieutenant in charge of the Pennsylvania side of the local investigation.

"There's been another victim discovered." Myers said almost as soon as he approached. "About two miles from the construction site where the little girl was found."

"Does the M.E have an estimate how long this victim was buried….." Hotch paused when the officer shook his head.

"This victim was killed only a hour and a half ago, and left in the house she shared with her sister."

"…what about this victim makes you think it's connected to our unsub?" Hotch asked after a few moments.

"Preliminary forensics matches the type of wounds suffered by the other victims as well as the head wound being made by the same type of weapon as the most recent victims." Myers replied.

"If this is the same unsub, it reflects a great change in his MO." Spencer said, his body partly turned toward the two men. "It's possible he knows his dump site has been discovered and that the police are combing the area for more bodies."

"I don't see how that's possible. There's been a gag on the media dealing with this case." Myers said.

"It might not be the same unsub – we need to go to the crime scene and investigate."

0

The cozy bungalow was neatly ordered, but overcrowded with knickknacks. The shelves were full of them, ninety percent of them the DIY kind that required the buyer to paint them. They ranged in size but were all some sort of squirrel or robin.

"You have quite a collection. Did you paint all of these yourself?" Rossi asked Brie's grandmother, Celia James, after noting the table loaded with brushes and craft paint.

"Oh, no. Many of them, yes. But those…." Celia gestured toward the three largest shelves across the room. "…those were done by my daughter Margaret, Brie's mother." The elderly lady, with streaks of gray in her hair looked sadly at those shelves.

"Brie's mother Margaret died in an accident a few years before Brie went missing, correct?" Rossi questioned, getting a nod as a response. Noting the moisture in Celia's eyes he proffered her a box of tissues from the coffee table beside him. "I can't imagine what you must be going through. Outliving both your daughter and granddaughter….I'd imagine that's the worst thing a parent and grandparent can go through."

Celia dabbed her eyes, and turned towards Rossi. "It is terrible. Not knowing was just as terrible." She sighed, her lips quivering. "At least Margaret didn't have to go through losing a child."

Rossi spoke more words of condolence, doing what he could to not overwhelm the poor woman. "I know you've been through a lot, but I need to ask you some questions about Brie."

"All right." Celia said, her posture that of someone determined not to give into grief despite her obviously moist eyes. "What do you need to know?"

0

"It appears Michelle Kramer was struck while walking up the stairs, after which she fell to the bottom." Spencer said, looking over the body. He crouched down, noticing something off about the blood splatter. The edge of one of the splotches was shaped like part of a square. He further spotted another similar shape heading away from the body. "Hotch."

"Did you find something, Reid?" Hotch asked, pausing his questioning the neighbor who'd called the murder in. It hadn't been long, but the authorities were still trying to get in touch with the victim's sister.

"I think a woman was here when the victim was killed." Spencer said, pointing out the marks. "Someone in high heels stepped in the victim's blood before leaving."

"Could this mean the culprit's a woman?" Myers asked.

"It's unlikely. Considering the force behind the deathblow, it's most likely our unsub is male." Hotch paused. "Even if the killer is female, striking the victim at the top of the stairs while wearing high heels would risk the unsub losing his or her balance."

"It's likely the person wearing the heels is the victim's sister." Spencer said while looking over the shoe-rack beside the door. "There are size 7 and size 5 shoes here. The size 7 shoes are mostly sneakers and low-heeled ones, while the size 5 shoes are all various high heels. The victim wore size 7, so presumably her sister wears the size 5."

Hotch took out his cell, his expression stoic except for his eyes.

"What…."

"It's likely the unsub took the victim's sister, and is holding her somewhere." Hotch explained to Myers. "You should issue a APB, I'll call Garcia, our tech analyst, to track Giselle Kramer's cell phone. Reid, you should go back to the station with Myers and continue the geographic profile."

0

"This is quite a large area. The perfect place to bury a body and not have it discovered." JJ commented, her gaze taking in their surroundings. The area where the first victim had been found, before the construction project started, must have been beautiful and solitary.

"…Yeah." Morgan glanced around himself, at the construction machinery and the evergreens just outside the perimeter. It was a very isolated spot, same as the road leading up to it. "Does something about this seem off to you?"

"…." JJ paused, considering their surroundings and the photographs of the other dump sites. "I don't know. It's isolated enough….more than some of the others."

"Exactly. Until this housing development project got green lit it was isolated enough that the unsub could've come out and moved the body."

"Maybe the unsub thought the project wouldn't go through?" JJ offered, though she too had felt confused by how ignored this victim had been by the unsub. "The reports of the other sites said that at least one of the other bodies had been moved previously by the unsub, correct?"

Morgan nodded, recalling how upon arriving at the investigation headquarters at the precinct they were apprised of that fact; as well as notified that two more bodies had been found. "Soil samples were found that suggest Brie Adams had been buried elsewhere first, then reburied where the police found her."

"…." JJ gave a brief shake of her head, her lips pressed together in contemplation. "It's strange that our unsub didn't try to move this victim's body when news of the project was released after being green lit. It's almost like the unsub forgot or didn't care about this victim."

"Or maybe this victim was killed by a different unsub."

0

 _A/N: End chapter, thanks for reading and I hope you like this so far. Reviews are highly appreciated._

 _I have much planned for this fic, but my brain seems to be rebelling against me for this part of it, so I may end up sort of rushing through this case to get on with the rest of the story._


	3. Unanswered Questions

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter Three:** Unanswered Questions

Giselle shivered, her eyes opened wide as she heard the door open. Her arms tied tightly to a pipe behind her back and her mouth gagged. The man had brought her to this place – a cellar going by the musty smell and lack of any but the faintest of light.

Even as the door opened, there wasn't any sign of light. The man approached her – she could tell by the way he breathed through his mouth. She shivered again, remembering how the man's breath had felt against her throat when he'd threatened her family.

0

"We should go over what we discovered about the unsub's victims." Hotch said to his team. Though the local police were still searching, only one more body had turned up. Making a total of six bodies found. "Let's start with Brie Adams."

"According to Brie's grandmother, Brie was a normal teenager. She'd had some adjustment issues after her mother died and she moved in with her grandmother. But her behavior improved after Brie started attending counseling." Rossi said, glancing over the notes he'd taken. "Celia James didn't deny that her granddaughter liked partying, but Brie would always be back before midnight to help her grandma into bed. So the night Brie went missing, Ms. James knew right away something was wrong and called the police."

"That sounds like Mary Ann Michael, the second victim discovered since we got here." Lewis said. "According to friends and her boyfriend at the time she went to her grandparent's place every weekend to help out, and would drop anything she was doing if they asked her for help. It was often a matter of contention between her and her boyfriend, and they'd get into fights about it. Initially police had her boyfriend as their main suspect, but his mother was a lawyer and there was no body, so the case went cold."

"What about Jessica Williams, Tabitha Grieg, and Laney Nichols?" Hotch questioned, looking over the files at the names of the other victims.

"Jessica Williams parents died in a car crash seven months ago, and she has no other known family in the area that we could question. Laney Nichol's husband still lives in town. He's a quadriplegic, so police never considered him a suspect. According to his nurse, who worked as needed for the Nichols at the time of Laney's disappearance, Mrs. Nichols cared for her husband like a mother would a child." Lewis iterated.

"Mr. and Mrs. Nichols were both in their early twenties at the time. It couldn't have been easy for either of them."

"From what I could get from questioning the nurse, Mr. Nichols' condition had something to do with Mrs. Nichols' estranged father. He didn't want her to marry Kyle Nichols and confronted him after the two had eloped." Lewis explained.

"So Laney Nichols felt guilty for what her father did and took care of her husband ungrudging. She wouldn't have just left." Morgan spoke, continuing after looking over the page in the file. "So why did it take so long for the missing person's report to be issued?"

"Laney Nichols was her husband's primary caregiver, and the nurse only checked in on Kyle Nichols when Laney called. Since Laney worked freelance from home and seldom went out, no one realized she was missing or that her husband had no one to care for him until nearly two weeks later. Police were called to their house after a neighbor grew concerned about not seeing the husband or Laney. Laney would bring her husband over to this neighbor's house every week to socialize. The neighbor had been away on a trip for a while and had only just returned two days prior to calling the police. Kyle Nichols was nearly dead from dehydration when he was found."

"How horrible." JJ said, her eyes teary.

"Mr. Nichols managed to recover enough to be put in a managed care facility. The police in this case pursued two possibilities. One being that Laney's father had kidnapped her. The other being that Laney may have abandoned her husband."

"They obviously were wrong." Rossi said, leaning forward in his chair as he read over his notes and the case files. "Tabitha Grieg had custody of her nephews when she disappeared. The younger one was four and the older one had just turned six. Their mother was in jail and their father was in rehab, so Tabitha took custody. She had lost her son a few years back, so taking care of her nephews made her happy."

"Did the police have any suspects in her case?"

"None. She had only moved to the area after her son died, and hadn't socialized much."

"What about our unsub's most recent victims? Michelle and Giselle Kramer?" Reid asked.

"Surprisingly little. Other than that Giselle has a seven month old son who was over at the babysitter's house when she was abducted. The sisters had only moved into town a few months ago, and haven't done much socializing with their neighbors." Hotch said, revealing what he'd learned after interviewing the Kramer's neighbors and coworkers.

"It seems each of our unsub's victims had someone dependent on them, except for Michelle Kramer." JJ said, her thoughts on Giselle's child and what would happen if they didn't find her in time.

"It's possible she just returned home at the wrong time, and the unsub had to kill her." Rossi replied.

"Why abduct Giselle from home though? None of the other victims were abducted from inside their homes. Laney Nichols had been out buying groceries when she was abducted according to her husband." Lewis said, pausing a moment. "Then there's our unidentified victim, were we able to find anything about her?"

"Garcia's working on it. But so far nothing." Hotch replied, his expression betraying none of what he was feeling at the moment. "It's possible she was homeless or an orphan, or may have been kidnapped from abroad."

"What about the possibility that her parents killed her and hid her body?"

"….that wouldn't explain why she was dragged. Two adults working together would easily be able to carry a young child's body. Even if it was just the father, which given her injuries is statistically more likely, she wouldn't needed to have been dragged." Spencer's cell phone beeped as he talked, indicating a text. He briefly checked it before returning it to his pocket. "It could be that the person who killed her had some injury at the time that prevented him from lifting the body. But considering the injuries sustained by our unsub's other victims, it's unlikely to have been a lasting injury."

"Morgan and I think we should consider the possibility that we were wrong about our unidentified victim being killed by the same person as these others." JJ said after sharing a look with Morgan. "No attempt was made by the unsub to move the Jane Doe's body. Despite the fact that the construction project has been in the news for years before being green-lit and that until construction started, the area was pretty much deserted."

"Instead of moving our Jane Doe's body away from the construction zone, the unsub moved Nichols and Adams' bodies closer to it." Morgan added, the rest of the BAU digesting this information. "It's like he wanted to make sure these other victims were connected with our Jane Doe's."

"That makes sense. Based on the geographic profile I made based on where each victim was found as well as where they were last seen, our Jane Doe's location inside the unsub's comfort zone is completely dependent on Nichols and Adams' bodies being moved to where they were found." Spencer explained, being interrupted again by the sound of another text being sent to his phone. He ignored it, though Rossi raised an eyebrow at the sound and a few others seemed curious. None of them mentioned it however. "If neither body had been moved from where they were initially buried, our Jane Doe would be at least four miles outside of the unsub's comfort zone."

"If our unsub did deliberately move his victims to connect them to our Jane Doe, then he must have had prior knowledge that she was buried there. Forensics indicates that they were moved no less than four months ago. Before the first victim was found." Hotch said.

"What would motivate the unsub to move his victims to an area bound to be investigated once the construction crew digs up the first body? Why not move that first body, even if it wasn't his?"

"Maybe he didn't want to move it or maybe he's trying to pin all his murders on whoever killed the Jane Doe?" JJ suggested. "It's possible he may have an alibi for the Jane Doe's murder and is hoping to use that as a way of escaping suspicion for the other murders?"

"I'll have Garcia look into possible unsubs for the other five victims who also have an alibi for the time the Jane Doe was killed." Hotch replied, standing up. "In the meantime we should deliver the profile."

0

Spencer's brow furrowed as he looked over the geographic profile, then the report on the Jane Doe. The body had been buried twenty years, and not much could be determined from forensics. Until they got a hit on either the DNA or dental records, they couldn't even inform the girl's family.

Nearly a hour ago they had delivered the profile on their unsub, careful not to give away their suspicion about the Jane Doe not being the unsub's victim. The idea being to possibly lure the unsub into a false sense of security when they did find him. If he thought his plan to blame his victims on whoever did kill the Jane Doe was still possible, he might come in without a struggle.

Spencer's cell phone beeped a text message alert while he puzzled over some information in the Jane Doe's file. Apparently some pebbles found in the remnants of the girl's clothes showed signs of having been submerged in water. It could mean that wherever this victim was dragged from included a body of water. The only snag was the distances between the burial site and the closest bodies of water.

He stretched and put down the file, his body feeling the effects of drowsiness as he glanced at his phone. Displayed on the screen was a text – from Alsie – clarifying the texts she'd sent earlier.

 _\- Sorry, the texts earlier were for Shelly. She put your number in my phone without telling me. (^_^;) -_

His lip twitched at the emoticon, his first thought about how Garcia would respond if she saw it. The texts in question were those he had received earlier, and had been about a foreign horror movie about a VHS tape and haunted well, and he at first didn't know who had text him. Alsie hadn't identified herself in either text, obviously thinking she was texting Shelly.

"Have you figured out anything that may help narrow down who our unsub is?" Rossi asked as he entered the room.

"Uh, um, not yet." Spencer replied, slipping his phone back inside his pocket. "I thought you went to look at the rest of the crime scenes with Morgan and JJ."

"There's only one more to go, where Jessica Williams was found. But it's too dark to be able to find any clues or whatnot." Rossi said, indicating the time. "Hotch sent everyone to the hotel to rest up. We'll get a fresh start on this in the morning."

Spencer gave an uneasy smile: he did feel drowsy, but also felt close to a breakthrough. If they could figure out more about the Jane Doe and her killer, then they could likely find the unsub who killed the other five victims.

"Spencer. There isn't much we can do until the morning." Rossi said. Before either could say anything more, Spencer's phone beeped. The younger agent checked the message in an effort to stall responding to Rossi.

 _\- Nighty-night. ((_ _))..zzzZZZ -_ Alsie had text, leaving another emoticon. Bemused by it, he wondered if Alsie had once again meant the text to be for Shelly.

"….I see your breakfast date went well." Rossi said, noting the slight smile Spencer had as he checked the text message.

"What? No. It didn't…it wasn't a date. Just a chat over coffee." Spencer replied, once more putting his cell phone away. "It was platonic."

Rossi raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a slight smile.

"What?"

"You just met with her and she already text you three times?" Rossi asked, his tone and expression saying more than his words.

"It was four times. And the first two were Alsie miss-texting me rather than her friend Shelly. This latest was likely the same miss-texting." Spencer said, picking up his messenger bag. He quickly added that he was going to the hotel, bypassing listening to the response Rossi had been about to say.

0

Spencer awoke sharply at the knock on his hotel room door. He rubbed his eyes and checked his watch in the sparse lighting. 4:53 AM. Before he could blink away the sleepiness gradually, another knock interrupted. Along with Morgan's voice saying the local police had just found Giselle.

He replied that he was awake as he got out of bed. His brain, though waking up, was still more conscious of the dream he'd woken from. He couldn't tell if it was a dream or a memory or a bit of both. There were some things like the neighborhood park he'd visited growing up and his mother that were clearly part of a memory. Yet there were other things like a lace shawl and a well surrounded by trees that were clearly dream fragments.

The bizarre thing was that he had had the same dream before, just slightly tweaked. Instead of the well, there was just the shawl and a chess piece placed in a darkened room. Unlike the dreams he had concerning Riley Jenkins, this one he'd only had that one time. Until now.

Spencer rubbed his face, shaking away the dream and instead focusing on the case. Though he'd learned not to dismiss his dreams right away after the Riley Jenkins case, this current case had nothing to do with his dream. Despite the well in it.

It took just as long for him to narrow his eyes for Spencer to realize the connection his subconscious mind had made. The rest of his dream slid away, but the well remained. _'That could explain….'_

0

"The coroner still has to do an autopsy, but a preliminary examination of the body puts Giselle's death at a little after 3AM." Hotch said after the last of the team showed up. Unlike the other victims, Giselle was left on an abandoned house's front porch instead of being buried.

"This is a drastic change in M.O." Morgan said, looking over the scene. "There wasn't any attempt to conceal her body."

"….even if the unsub knows we found his dump site, there are plenty of wooded places around where he could've buried the body." Spencer replied, surveying the area. "Instead he left her in an area where she could easily be found."

Hotch's phone rang at that moment.

"Yes, Garcia? Did you find anything?" Hotch asked after checking caller ID.

 _-"So far I've been able to narrow down our suspect pool to eleven people."-_

"Eleven? Couldn't you narrow it down some more, baby girl?"

 _-"For that I'd need more data. Perhaps if I had a specific time when our Jane Doe was killed rather than just the year, I could pinpoint it down further."-_

"Garcia, were there any incidents involving a well in the area twenty years ago?" Spencer asked, arms crossed. "There were stones found with the Jane Doe that showed signs of submersion in water. It's possible she was moved from a well, or another body of water nearby."

 _-"Ok, give me a sec..." Garcia typed in the new parameters. "...Got it. There was an incident involving a teenage boy allegedly pushing an eight year old into an old well twenty-two years ago. The teen was then sent to live with relatives in Maine. Charges were never filed."-_

"That could be our unsub. Garcia, what's his name and current address?"

 _-"That would be Stephen Barker, and...oh." Garcia paused, reading the information on her screen.-_

"What is it, Garcia?"

 _-"...His current location would be the local cemetery. He died eight months ago."-_

"He isn't our unsub then. He wouldn't be able to move the two victims' bodies let alone kill Michelle and Giselle Kramer." Morgan said, giving an exasperated sound.

"..." JJ, quietly thinking as she pondered the scene, spoke up. "...it's possible that the unsub who killed the Kramer's isn't the same one who killed those other five victims. Other than Giselle having a child who depended on her, nothing about her or her sister matches the victimology of the other victims. Their killer didn't even bury either of them."

"...JJ's right, this doesn't match the other victims." Morgan said. "And with how the unsub took the risk to move those bodies to match where the Jane Doe was buried, it's possible that he's trying to cover up who actually killed those other women."

"Garcia, does Stephen Barker still have any family in the area?"

 _-"...He has two aunts who live in town. As well as a wife and son. His mom and stepdad died years ago, and...oh." The sound of Garcia typing could be heard over the phone. "Barker's biological father moved back to the area a year and a half ago, and apparently tried to get back in his son's life."-_

"All right. Send us his name and address."

0

Around 2-3 hours later:

JJ gazed out the window at the passing horizon, the jet taking them back to Quantico. Not long after receiving the name from Garcia, they had managed to find evidence and arrest Stephen Barker's father Andrew Kendall for the murders of Michelle and Giselle Kramer. He hadn't even resisted when they brought him in.

Only when they questioned him about his son did he balk; he had kept insisting that he was the one responsible for all the victims. It had taken finding evidence that Kendall had been out of the state for at least two of the murders to get him to admit his son Stephen had killed those women.

Ultimately, Mr. Kendall answered all their questions in regards to moving the two bodies and the murders of the Kramer's. Kendall had done so in order to stop his son from being labeled a serial killer. Though it was more to do with Kendall's grandson – Stephen Barker's son – than with Barker. No one on the child's mother side knew who Kendall was, and so he thought he could protect his grandson from ever having to deal with being the son of a serial killer.

The only thing Kendall wouldn't answer truthfully were their questions regarding the unidentified victim. He resisted all attempts of theirs to get him to admit that he hadn't done that murder – something they had considered he may have done, until his body-language and micro-expressions said otherwise.

JJ sighed.

"What is it, JJ?" Hotch asked, sitting down across from her.

"..." JJ turned from the window her eyes meeting Hotch's. "I wonder if we'll ever find out who killed that little girl or even who she was."

"The Bureau will continue to investigate her identity and what happened. Maybe one day Mr. Kendall will break and reveal what he knows about her and her killer." Hotch replied. He studied JJ, realizing his words didn't assuaged her as he hoped they would. "What is this really about?"

JJ shook her head slowly and frowned, her lips a thin line. "Garcia searched through all the databases. There's nothing in them that matches the Jane Doe. There were a few possibilities but none panned out. It's like no one reported her missing."

Hotch sighed. "I know what you mean. She could've been homeless or a orphan, but there should've been some sort of trail or someone who noticed she'd gone missing."

"What if her parents did kill her?" JJ asked, her stomach roiling at the thought.

"It's possible. But the parents in those cases will generally report the child missing, or leave the area to hide the unexplained disappearance of the child. Garcia's search didn't reveal either in relation to the Jane Doe."

JJ scowled. "I really want to know who Andrew Kendall is protecting by confessing to this little girl's murder. What could make someone think a child murderer is worth protecting?"

Hotch remained silent and looked out the window, not having a good response.

0

Rossi walked towards the back of the jet, passing by Hotch and JJ conversing. He made his way to where Spencer sat, the younger agent deep in thought and fidgeting with his cell phone.

"Hey kid." Rossi said and sat down across from Spencer. His action and words pulled the younger man from his reverie.

"Rossi, this was some case."

"Yeah. Tell me about it." Rossi replied, feeling dissatisfied by how the case turned out – not only did they not get to the latest victim in time to save her, but they also hadn't learned anything about the ten year old victim.

Spencer didn't reply, his eyes knitted in thought. He was once more considering his cell phone silently.

"It isn't the case you're thinking about, is it?"

Spencer gave a demure smile, his eyes like a deer's for a brief few seconds. He placed his phone down, considering things.

"This is about...Alsie, right?" Rossi asked, recalling the name the younger man had used the night before when questioned about the texts. "Alsie's an interesting name..."

"It's short for Allison." Reid replied, his eyes giving the impression that the brain behind them was thinking deeply about many things at once. "...Have you ever met someone for the first time and they didn't seem like a stranger?"

Rossi crocked an eyebrow.

"It's been my experience that such a thing is rare. Are you sure you haven't actually met her before?" He asked, guessing correctly that Spencer was talking about Alsie. The younger man shook his head. "Maybe when you were children? Children change a lot physically as they grow up, enough to be unrecognizable once you see them again later on."

Spencer thought a few seconds. "No. There were a couple Allisons at the schools I attended, but none of them are Alsie." The furrow in his brow deepened as he said the name Alsie. There was something about that name, but he was positive he hadn't heard it before meeting Alsie.

"If you didn't meet her before now, then maybe she reminds you of someone?"

Spencer paused again, considering this possibility. His mind came up blank however. Though he felt sure that Rossi was right and that Alsie did remind him of someone. He shook his head, confused.

Rossi sat back, mulling things over. He'd briefly considered mentioning Maeve and asking if Alsie reminded Spencer of her, but he decided not to.

0

 **A/N: End Chapter.**

 **Hoped you enjoyed the chapter and reviews are highly appreciated.**

 **I was half asleep when I typed this up, so if there are any mistakes that's why. Also I really wanted to conclude this case this chapter, so it probably feels rushed though it is longer than most of the chapters I've ever written (or ever will write, probably). (I'm also not confident in writing out the profiles of suspects, so I skimmed over that part.)**


	4. Alsie's Proposal

_A/N: This chapter isn't as long as the one right before, but I hope you readers enjoy it. I know how I want this fic to turn out, but I've been having a little difficulty figuring out how to write it so it will end up how I planned. The hardest part is writing Spencer's and Alsie's interactions...I don't plan on it being exactly romantic, hence why I didn't choose romance as one of the genres for this fic. (Of course that depends on what one considers romantic.)_

 _Please tell me what you think of Alsie so far._

0

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter Four:** Alsie's Proposal

"You certainly know how to party." The raven haired man said to the fair-haired woman in between kisses. The two of them within centimeters of the other on the packed club floor.

"Of course." The woman replied, pressing her lips once more against his. Her lips smelled and tasted of alcohol. Her eyes half-lidded from either arousal or intoxication.

The man ran his fingers through her hair throughout the kiss. His breathing quickened at the thought of what he had planned. The desire in his gray eyes ran deeper than a tryst – his brain ran straight to the rope and array of bladed instruments he had hidden in his truck.

"What do you say we head to my place and have a private party?" He purred in her ear, his eyes tracing her neckline and imagining how much he could make her bleed before she'd succumb to blood-loss.

"Sure. How about another drink first?" The woman purred back, licking her top lip seductively. Her eyes looked up at his, their cerulean hue showing nothing but desire. No fear or hesitation.

"All right." The man said, turning toward the bar. As he did so his eyes noticed the entrance and the two men in FBI labeled vests heading onto the club floor.

His expression changed swiftly to barely concealed rage. He scanned the area quickly for an escape. Making his way through the crowd, two things happened – he felt what seemed like a pinch or prick against his arm and heard a female agent's voice call out to him closer than the two men.

"Jeremy Yaegar, freeze! FBI!" JJ shouted, her service firearm pointed at the unsub. She was just a couple feet from where the man had been headed.

It was at that moment that the unsub started convulsing, collapsing onto the floor before JJ or Hotch and Rossi, who were approaching from the entrance area, could register what had happened.

0

 _Three Weeks Later:_

Spencer sipped at his coffee, his eyes currently breezing through Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. The clock across the bookstore cafe ticked slowly closer to noon. His brow furrowed as he waited.

Several days ago he'd received a voicemail from Alsie, asking to meet. It had been a short time after a case they'd just closed in New York City. One that had been both satisfying and dissatisfying.

The satisfying bit had been that they found the unsub – a sexual sadist that got off on exsanguinating his victims – before he could secure a new victim. The dissatisfying part was that somehow, right when they'd been about the arrest the unsub, an unknown party had managed to poison him. Using a fatal dose of tetrodotoxin that had been injected into the unsub's bloodstream via his arm, this assailant had murdered Jeremy Yaegar and vanished before any of them could realize what happened.

Going over the case and who would've wanted the unsub dead – including his victim's families and friends, as well as having other cases to assist on, had prevented Spencer from even considering Alsie's request.

It wasn't until yesterday night that he'd replied to her voicemail.

Spencer rubbed his eyes and placed the book on the table, having finished the final pages just as the clock's hands ticked passed 12:02. He sighed, forcing his brain away from the case and onto Alsie. He couldn't say for certain what he'd thought about Alsie, but there was something that drew him to her.

It wasn't attraction. At least not of the sort that he'd experienced before. Rossi's suggestion that maybe she reminded him of someone didn't seem far off – but Spencer resisted the idea that Alsie reminded him of Maeve.

That was completely out of the question. No one would ever come close to Maeve. And even if he ever did fall in love again, he felt sure it wouldn't be Alsie. It just didn't feel possible.

Time continued to tick by on the clock while he sipped his coffee. Though he still had no intention of romance, he did return Alsie's call and agreed to meet for lunch at this cafe. They had agreed to meet at ten to twelve; it was seventeen minutes after that now.

 _'Where...?'_ Spencer stopped his thoughts before he could dwell on the many – mostly negative – scenarios for why Alsie was late. Instead he took out a notepad and started doodling equations. He swallowed as he doodled, feeling uneasy as the echo of a headache started to creep in from the back of his head.

The clock hands had reached 12:14 before he saw Alsie approach.

"Sorry I'm late."

Spencer almost gave an ugly retort, due to the uneasiness and worry that had crept through him. He didn't however, and instead answered politely, if a bit strained.

"It's fine. I'm sure there's a reason you're twenty-four minutes and thirty-seven seconds late."

"Yeah, um..." Alsie sat down, not batting an eye at the precision of Spencer timing her tardiness. Her eyes moved from Spencer's face to the notepad in front of him. Spencer noted her jitteryness and the slight decline in focus from what she had had during their first meeting. "Does nervousness count?"

"...nervousness?" Spencer repeated, after a pause. The way Alsie tried to avoid direct eye-contact except for that first glance, as well as the way her eyes had been dilated cinching it for him.

"Yeah...what I'd wanted to ask...um..."

Spencer studied Alsie as she fumbled over what she'd wanted to say. Her eyes once again met his and he felt that same tendril of disappointment.

"...what did you take?" Spencer asked, cutting into Alsie's halting response. The petite face met his, surprised. "Your pupils are dilated, you're unable to focus...and your demeanor overall..."

"Don't." Alsie interrupted Spencer, though she made no effort to refute his observation. She also showed no signs of shame. "All right, I did take something, but I have a prescription for it. I was in so much pain this morning, I could barely get out of bed. I..." Alsie covered her face with her hands, breathing in and out slowly. "Between the pain and the drowsiness of waking up, I probably took more than my normal dosage...injections are not nearly as simple as taking a pill, but I detest pills, so..."

"No, um. It's fine." Spencer replied quickly, noticing the authenticity of Alsie's response. Her eyes strayed to the right side of her face – though covered by her hair, he had noticed scarring when they'd met before. He wondered if she had been in an accident of some sort that had caused them. "I didn't mean to...I'm just concerned..."

Alsie noticed his gaze on her scar and the question in it. She nodded tersely. "I...fell and landed on a pile of broken glass when I was younger. Ever since I've...suffered from head pain as a result."

"I'm sorry." Spencer replied, recalling his own bout with migraines years ago. It had almost reached the point where he considered using again, though thankfully he hadn't. "...have you tried other methods besides prescription narcotics to combat your headaches?"

"...nothing I've tried worked for long." Alsie replied.

"Prescription painkillers can be highly addictive. If you get in the habit of taking higher doses than prescribed..."

"...I actually haven't gotten many migraines lately – this morning was the first in months where I woke with one." Alsie rubbed her eyes, then trailed the edge of her fingers on the Dostoevsky novel Spencer had placed aside. "I didn't want to reschedule meeting you, I mean...it has been ten days since I left that voicemail. I thought you were going to ignore it like you did my texts before. Of course, those first texts were sent to you accidentally and I sent another apologizing about it, but I..."

The sound of something glass falling and breaking across the cafe caused Alsie to flinch. She pulled her hands into her lap and closed her eyes, steadying herself.

"Are you all right?" Spencer asked, concern filling his brown eyes.

"I'm fine." Alsie said, opening her eyes though she kept them downcast as she considered her next words. "Um, what I wanted to ask you. Why I called...I understand and agree that dating is out of the question. But...I thought we could feign dating? Just to stop Shelly from hounding me and trying to set me up with guys? Seeing as neither of use are interested in actual dating, there'll likely be no chance of complications arising, compared to if I asked someone else."

Spencer listened to Alsie, surprised and cautious. He briefly wondered if the narcotics in her system had anything to do with what she was proposing.

Alsie studied Spencer, her expression asking 'well?'

His first instinct was to say no, but he stalled. Instead he considered it. He thought about his team, how none of them would directly say it but each hoped he would allow himself to find someone new. They understand, especially Hotch and Rossi, that he missed Maeve and what might've been, but he knew they hoped he could move on.

If he dated someone, even if it was pretense, it could reassure them...

Spencer sighed. It would be lying to his team, something that wasn't easy to do nor something he really wanted to do...

"I'd like some time to think about it." Spencer replied before Alsie tried prompting him again for an answer. "I'll get back to you about it."

"All right. As long as I don't have to wait another ten days to hear your response." Alsie joked, grinning sheepishly. Her tenseness from earlier gone. "...do you mind if I tell Shelly that we are...Um, never-mind." She fell silent, reading the answer in Spencer's demeanor.

"Don't tell me you've already started telling her..."

"No. Actually I've avoided her asking by pretending to have a headache all week..." She gave a soft chuckle. "Most people would say it's ironic or karma that I'd get a migraine after feigning one..."

Spencer was about to reply when his phone interrupted. The number on the display Hotch's.


	5. First Glimpse

**My Life Had Stood**

 ** _Chapter 5:_** First Glimpse

Alsie watched as Spencer left, her burnt umber eyes heavily shadowed by her hair. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. The cafe speakers played a soothing melody that overpowered the noisy bustle of people on their lunch breaks. She sat calmly, sipping her coffee. The area around her the least inhabited part of the cafe, as well as the dimmest.

The light above her flickered. She closed her eyes, finishing her coffee while trying to drown out the sounds around her. She had lied. The narcotics she'd taken hadn't helped her head. It had only dimmed the pain, while doing nothing about how the noises and lights around her assaulted her ears and eyes, respectively.

Her cell phone beeped, the custom tone less grating than the other sounds filling the cafe, but not by much. She placed her empty coffee cup down and checked the message on its screen.

 _"R u free 2day?" Shelly's text asked, "On lunch brk, want 2 talk 2 u. Worried abt u."_

Alsie sighed, rubbing her eyes and brow. For a moment she thought of ignoring the text. Her conversation with Spencer hadn't ended how she'd thought – not that she thought he'd agree right away, but rather that she'd get either a yes or no. His needing to 'think about it' had thrown her off. If she hadn't been muddled by the narcotics running through her body, she'd have demanded a yes or no.

Picking her phone back up, she text Shelly back. Telling her the cafe name as well as to bring her a hot chocolate.

"What's a little thing like you doing sitting all alone?" A stranger approached, holding two coffees. One he held out to her. His ice-blue eyes studied her hungrily, roaming from her face to the rest of her body. He prodded her to take the coffee, his lip twitching when she shook her head while smiling politely. "Here..."

The stranger sat down before Alsie could more than glare at him. He wore a slightly faded checkered dress shirt and dark slacks. His hair tawny, with a splash or two of gray.

Considering him quietly, Alsie pulled her lips taut. A moment later she stood up, pulling the hair covering the right side of her face behind her ear. Once the scar was in full view, she glared down at him – her eyes filled with cold loathing.

The stranger flinched, the cut of Alsie's glare immediate. His blue eyes widened at the scar, which seemed to be as angry as her eyes. They gave the sort of glare one would give an insect that tried to bite you before swatting it. The stranger quickly apologized, though Alsie was already walking towards the cafe's back exit.

She took out her cell phone, quietly snapping a picture of the stranger before exiting the cafe.

0

Shelly arrived at the cafe fifteen minutes later. After parking in a shady spot next to the cafe, she entered the building and made her way to the counter. The line to order wasn't that long – just two people ahead of her, and most of the cafe seats were empty. Her eyes scanned the cafe before returning to the overhead menu.

She chewed on her lip, reading over the selections while the people ahead of her ordered. Her blonde hair framed her slightly round face and her green-gray eyes. As the people right ahead of her finished ordering, she scanned the cafe again. Her gaze halted on Alsie standing quietly by the back exit, having just reentered the cafe. Shelly hesitated before approaching to order, the cafe employee having to prop her twice with a greeting.

"Sorry. I'll have a medium hot chocolate and a small herbal tea. Plus two croissants." Shelly ordered, taking out her wallet. Her fingers first reached for her bank card, but instead took out a twenty dollar bill. After putting away her change and collecting her order, she headed towards where Alsie stood.

"We should go." Alsie spoke, her usually soft-spoken voice harsh. It had the same edge that Shelly had gotten used to over the years. Alsie also wasn't hiding the scarred part of her face, instead seeming to flaunt it. Shelly handed Alsie the hot chocolate, before taking a sip of her own tea. Her eyes once more scanned the area, only this time paying more attention to the outside than the inside of the place.

"What happened? Why...?"

Alsie silenced her with a glare, and instead opened the back door again. The two of them headed to Shelly's car, parked conveniently next to the back exit.

"I got the text." Shelly said, entering the driver side. Her eyes briefly glanced to the back of her sedan. "Did you really hav..."

Alsie didn't answer and simply sat back, turning on the car stereo.

"All right." Shelly gave up getting an answer and instead left the parking lot. In the passenger seat, Alsie hummed – though not to the song playing, but rather a different one. Shelly chewed on her lip, and sighed. "Once we get back to my work, you can borrow the car. However, I expect it in the same condition."

"...your pick next time." Alsie replied after nodding, her lips a thin line. Her eyes not at all demure, but rather intense. Not a further word did she utter, both of them understanding without elaboration. It wasn't much longer before they arrived at Shelly's work, and Shelly parked next to the curb. Before the two of them could get out and switch seats she turned to Alsie.

"Not the same as last time. Use something else." Shelly cautioned, before allowing Alsie into the driver side. The keys were still in the ignition, the music still playing. Despite this she still glanced toward the trunk, but only briefly. "Al..." Shelly hesitated in addressing Alsie, instead just letting her drive off.

0

BAU Jet:

Spencer read over the file in front of him, head resting on his propped up arm. He and his team were currently on the BAU jet heading to western New York State. Over the course of five weeks, six women had been abducted, blinded and raped repeatedly, in the area. Another woman had been reported missing that morning, and the local police feared she was a new victim.

"Six victims in five weeks – seven counting this latest abductee." Rossi paused, curtly shaking his head as he read over the file. "That's a lot of victims in such a short time period."

"Why weren't we brought in sooner?" Morgan queried.

"After he finished with his victims, the unsub dropped them off at a different city or town in the region." Hotch replied, sitting straight in his seat while they brainstormed. "Four of them were tourists visiting the area alone and so weren't known to be missing until days or weeks after they were abducted. One of them, Melissa Joyce, wasn't known to be missing until after she was abandoned by the unsub just outside of Buffalo."

"It's interesting he's keeping them alive and isn't taking any measures to remove his DNA from these women's bodies." Lewis brought up. "This unsub is confident we won't be able to identify him."

"Only two of the women abducted were interviewed so far, and neither of them were able to give a description of their rapist." Spencer said, reiterating what was in the reports. "It isn't clear since neither interview was completed, but based on what Phyllis Thomas, the second victim interviewed, told police, it's likely the unsub blinded each victim first before sexually assaulting them."

"That's an effective forensic counter measure. By blinding his victims and never letting them see his face, they'll never be able to ID him or give a description to the police." JJ said. "That shows he's organized and intelligent."

"But then why make no effort to clean his DNA from each victim? He has to know they'll be found, questioned by police and given an medical examination." Rossi rubbed his chin, rereading the page he was on. "He didn't bother with his fingerprints either."

"It's possible blinding his victims is a compulsion rather than a forensic countermeasure. He _needs_ to blind his victims." Hotch suggested, though he too found the mix of organization and disorganization of this unsub vexing. The way the unsub abandoned each victim in a different city or town, and to strike in an area where there were a lot of tourists suggested that the unsub was organized. Though the way the unsub didn't bother with cleaning up his DNA or fingerprints which, once he was arrested for any crime, would connect him to the sexual assaults, suggested otherwise.

Rossi, about to respond, paused instead when his cell phone rang. Making a 'hold on' gesture to the team, he answered it.

"Hello, yes. Are you meeting us...oh, okay." Rossi listened, saying a few more sentences before ending the call.

"Was that agent Fitzgerald?" Hotch asked after Rossi put away the cell phone. "Is she joining us?"

"...Cam apparently transferred to the L.A field office five weeks ago." Rossi replied, referring to an agent that had helped the team a handful of years back when most of them were out with colds. She had helped out now and again since then, but always temporarily. "She sends her regards. But won't be able to help out this time."

"That's too bad, I was looking forward to finally meeting her." JJ mentioned. Out of all of them, aside from Lewis, she was the only BAU member not to meet Cam Fitzgerald yet. Mainly since Fitzgerald was only called in to help when the team was at least two to three agents down. And it seemed that JJ had always been one of the team members out each time Fitzgerald was brought in.

"All right, back to the case at hand..."

* * *

 **A/N: I've decided to connect this fic and Time's Sublimest Target, as revealed by the BAU talking about Cam Fitzgerald (my OC from Time's Sublimest Target) at the end of this chapter. So far I don't have any concrete plans on bringing Cam into this fic, but consider this fic as taking place after Time's Sublimest Target (I do plan on updating more to Time's Sublimest Target while writing to this fic.)**

 **On another topic, if any of you reading this who are also fans of the manga Skipbeat, then you'll already have noticed after reading this chapter, but I based Alsie partly on Mio Hongo. However, only partly. I can't say who else I based her on without giving away much of the plot (though I may have already given it away, depending on how observant readers are, and if my writing was obvious...) People haven't mentioned so in reviews, so I don't know...**

 **PS: I named Cam Fitzgerald after my favorite Harvest Moon/Bokujo Monogatari character...**


	6. Before I Got My Eye Put Out

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 6:** Before I Got My Eye Put Out

He licked his lips, the blindfolded woman tied to the chair still struggling to free herself. That was impossible, the way she was tied ensured that. He smirked, approaching the chair. The sound of his footsteps scuffling towards her, caused the woman to tense.

Lips pressed firmly together, he didn't say anything though he wanted so badly to taunt the bound woman. Instead he simply picked up the serrated butcher's knife from his workbench.

"Please. Please let me go." The woman pleaded, crying beneath the blindfold. The man laughed. The knife he held gleamed beneath the yellow glow of the ceiling light above them.

He loved this part.

0

"I understand. If she decides..." JJ's mouth twitched, the person she spoke to cutting her off. After arriving at the precinct's head office and setting up a work area, the BAU had split up to question witnesses and investigate. She and Lewis had decided to interview the victims.

The problem was that none of the victims wanted to be interviewed. Even the two who had agreed to be interviewed by police before, refused to be interviewed again. Not that they could be blamed for not wanting to relive the trauma foisted on them by the unsub.

"No dice on those interviews?" Lewis asked as JJ put down the phone, having just been hung up on. The frown on the blonde agent's face was answer enough.

"...I understand why they don't want to be interviewed." JJ cleared her throat, remembering when she'd been abducted and tortured. Her situation and that of these women were vastly different, but the emotional trauma, and fear, were similar. "Not wanting to relive what happened to them by talking about it. But..."

"Yeah," Lewis said her tone empathetic. She was about to expand further when JJ's phone rang.

0

The neighborhood around them was quiet, with sparse traffic flow and few pedestrians. They stood in front of a cafe built amid a v-shaped intersection, across one street was a library and a YMCA, across the other were abandoned commercial buildings.

"This is a cozy little coffee shop." Rossi commented as he and Spencer entered. This was where the unsub's third victim had been dropped off.

"It's interesting that he even knew this place was here." Spencer replied, taking off his sunglasses as he entered the comfortably less bright cafe. Outside was bright, though thankfully not too hot.

The coffee shop was quite small with a few booths and a counter like those found in an old-fashion diner. Complete with spinning stools. Spencer counted seven people, not counting the employees, eating and chatting.

"Good afternoon." One of the two waitresses approached, hearing the door chime. "If you'll take a seat I'll be right with you."

"We're not here to eat." Rossi replied, showing his FBI credentials. "I'm SSA Rossi and this is Dr. Reid. We're here about the woman who was left here three weeks ago: Martha Anderson."

One of the women who seemed to be de facto in charge, took over from the one who greeted them. She waved them towards a booth.

"It's a terrible thing to have happened to her." The woman said after the two agents sat down, and she introduced herself as Jackie. She then called for coffee cups to be brought for the two agents, ignoring their polite declines/refusals. "Nonsense, it's on the house. You two are here to do something about those poor women, aren't you?"

Before either could respond, the waitress who'd greeted them came over with two coffee cups and a carafe half filled with freshly brewed coffee. She filled the two cups, leaving a bowl of single-serve creamers and sugar packets behind, as well as two spoons.

"Thank you." Spencer told the waitress, as did Rossi. Neither of them had expected to be ushered to a seat and treated to coffee while working, but considering how tight space was here it was probably done to not inconvenience other customers. He politely took a sip after putting in creamer and sugar.

"You mentioned 'those women,' how did you hear about the other victims?" Rossi questioned.

"I have a daughter who recently moved to Buffalo. She read in the paper about that woman being left outside a bus stop. It terrified her and she called me up about it." Jackie replied, turning her head habitually to greet customers at the sound of the door chime. "The next day that other woman - Martha, you said her name was? - showed up here."

"You were working that day?" Spencer asked, curious since Jackie's name hadn't been on the police report as a witness.

"I was supposed to be, but my grandson Eric had strep throat and I took him to his pediatrician." Jackie replied, elaborating that Eric was her son's child.

"Who was working at the time Ms. Anderson was dropped off?" Rossi inquired, leaning back in his seat while facing Jackie who stood next to the booth.

"That would be Phyllis." Jackie replied while turning her head to greet another customer walking in, as well as saying goodbye to a couple on their way out. She missed the look Rossi and Reid shared at the name Phyllis.

"Was Phyllis' last name Thomas by any chance?" Spencer asked, calculating the statistics on the 'Phyllis' Jackie had just mentioned, and the 'Phyllis' who was one of the unsub's victims being strangers who just happened to share the same name. Phyllis wasn't as common as 'Kate' or 'Jackie' but there was a chance the name was coincidental.

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact. She was staying in town for the month, but ended up losing too much at the casino so needed a job to avoid having to return home early." Jackie revealed, needing little prompting from the agents.

Spencer sucked in a breath, eyes glancing at Rossi. Here was a connection between two of their victims. As well as a slight one to a third.

"Do you know a young woman named Melissa Joyce?" Rossi asked after a pause, working on an hunch. Joyce's name hadn't been released to the public as she was seventeen, the youngest of the unsub's victims.

"Mellie? I knew her aunt Lisa. But she moved away last year after her aunt passed away." This time the glance shared between the two agents wasn't missed by Jackie. She immediately became alert. "What is it? What happened?"

"Phyllis Thomas and Melissa Joyce were victimized by the same man who dropped off Martha Anderson here." Rossi explained, reacting quickly when Jackie nearly collapsed in shock.

It didn't take long to seat Jackie in the neighboring booth and hand her a glass of water one of the waitresses brought over. The other waitress cleaned up the booth the two agents had been using - in the sudden rush to stop Jackie's fall, one of the two had knocked over the coffee cups. Both had been still plenty full at the time.

After a few more questions, mainly concerning if Jackie knew any of the other victims, Rossi and Spencer left the coffee shop.

0

Sofa and love-seat a soft gray with a matching recliner snug in the corner of the room; a closed off brick fire place on which family photos were laid. Glancing at the living room from the foyer, Hotch noted how normal it seemed. Amy Vaughn, who they feared was their unsub's latest victim, was a normal mother and wife.

"Like I told the police, I was out of town on business for the past two weeks." Randy Vaughn, husband of the current victim, told Hotch and Morgan after inviting them in. He was agitated, though that was normal given the circumstances. "I got home around three this morning, Amy wasn't here."

"Your call to police occurred at 3:23 am. Not long after you got in. What made you suspicious that something happened to your wife and that she wasn't just out late with friends or visiting family?" Hotch asked while Morgan searched around the living room, dining room etc. Neither of them, nor had the police, saw any signs of a struggle.

"Amy...she didn't leave the house without me or one of our daughters with her." Randy replied, expression betwixt worry and frustration. "She has anxiety attacks even just going out to check the mail. I converted the old milk delivery box by the side door into a mailbox so she wouldn't need to worry. She even has groceries delivered whenever I was away on business and our daughters couldn't stop by. Amy wouldn't - couldn't - leave the house alone."

"What about friends? Would she be comfortable going out with them with her?" Hotch's gave Randy Vaughn a curious look when the latter gave a disparaging sigh at the question.

"Amy doesn't socialize much, outside of me and our daughters, Julie and Amber." He explained, pointing to a photograph above the fireplace. It was the four of them. "Julie's twenty-four, and is working on a doctorate in mathematics. Amber is seventeen."

"Mr. Vaughn..."

"You'll find Amy, won't you?" Randy asked, eyes tearing up after picking up the photo.

"We'll do everything we can to find her. I promise you that." Hotch replied.

0

"Yes. Yes, we'll be right there." JJ told the person on the phone before ending the call. She glanced at Lewis, who questioned her with a look. "North Tonawanda police just found another victim."

"Amy Vaughn?" Lewis asked to which JJ shook her head. She was about to ask more, noticing by JJ's demeanor that something was different this time.

"The police haven't been able to identify her yet, but preliminary forensics has put her death between 40 to 42 hours ago."

"The unsub killed his victim this time?" Lewis said in a tone that was less questioning and more sickened. As well as fearful for the safety of Amy Vaughn, the most recent abductee. If the unsub had started killing his victims...

JJ had already started dialing Hotch's number while she and Lewis were heading toward the SUV.

"There's been another victim." JJ said after Hotch answered. "Police in North Tonawanda found her body in the river...she's been dead almost two days. Lewis and I are about to head there now."

 _-"What about the interviews with the previous victims?" Hotch inquired, he and Morgan were outside having completed their search and questioning of the Vaughn's He sighed frustrated when JJ explained that none of them would agree to an interview with them. "All right, I'll call Rossi. He and Reid are closer to that area so I'll have them meet you there." -_

"Okay. What about you and Morgan?" JJ asked, getting into the passenger side while Lewis took the driver's seat.

 _-"We're going to try to figure out where Amy Vaughn was taken from. There's no sign of struggle at her house, and according to her husband she may have suffered from severe agoraphobia. So the unsub must've been someone she trusted and lured her out or grabbed her somewhere she felt safe." Hotch explained, he and Morgan just pulling out of the Vaughn's driveway. -_

JJ said a quick goodbye and slipped her cell into her pocket.

0

The unsub put down his knife, the blade covered in fresh blood. The blindfolded woman had passed out, her blindfold soaked with blood.

He smirked.

Staring down at the woman, he licked his lips. He'd only destroyed one of her eyes so far and she had screamed the entire time. He wondered how much more she would scream when he destroyed the other one.

"'Before I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see.'" He whispered in the woman's ear, quoting a poem he had heard years ago. Those words were all he said before returning to his workbench.

0

 **A/N: I hoped you liked this chapter. The poem the unsub quotes at the end is one by Emily Dickinson (one of my favorite poets, this fic's title is also from one of her poems).**

 **I updated the summary to this fic to reflect what I have planned for future chapters - this isn't just going to be a Reid/OC relationship fic...*sheepish chuckle* but will also have a plot dealing with Rossi.**

 **I can't really say more without giving away plot, so...**

 **Anyway, please review or favorite, etc. I'll update regardless, but it's nice to know what you readers think.**


	7. A Secret Told

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 7:** A Secret Told

The sky sapphire blue with clouds accenting it with white until it reached the horizon. There her eyes took in the train tracks stretching far and appearing to converge - though that was just the trick distance and the horizon played on the eye.

 _'I need to get out of here. He's going to find me...'_ Amy Vaughn tried to breathe evenly in effort to calm her racing thoughts. It was futile. All she managed was to worry herself more for pulling attention to herself.

Not that many cars passed by this place or that the people driving them cared who she was.

She clenched a newspaper in her fists, twisting and untwisting it. It was foolish, she should've known after reading the first article. Should've realized...there was no escaping the past.

He was in the city. Amy had seen him while out with her daughter Amber. It was mere chance that she'd seen him before he'd seen her. Otherwise...she didn't want to think about otherwise.

Twenty-one years. That's how long it'd been since she'd seen him. Yet she still remembered him, despite the years. Almost as though she'd been his real mother. Though in every way imaginable she had been. Except...

"James..." Amy trembled, her mind on the article about the series of rapes that occurred. Particularly about how the victims were left blinded. She recalled pictures James had drawn when he was twelve - women with their eyes blacked out or red with blood. Each one had been more vivid, more graphic.

She'd done what she could for him. She hadn't wanted to leave him in that place but that had been the deal...

Amy breathed in deeply, glancing down at the newspaper crumbled in her hands. Tears dripped onto the newsprint. She'd turn fifty soon, her husband, almost six years younger than her, had turned 44 last month. Maybe it was time to stop hiding.

If she told Randy the truth, maybe he could help...

She was still distracted by her thoughts when someone pulled up, parking by the curb.

0

Hotch frowned, reading over the information gathered about the unsub's latest victim. Unlike the others, this woman hadn't been raped. Her eyes, however, had been stabbed and gouged, and then bleached before being sutured, same as the other victims.

It was their unsub's signature, brutal yet unique. This wasn't a copycat. But the absence of sexual assault and no signs of increased torture to compensate didn't make sense. If the unsub was devolving there would be increased violence and less control.

Furthermore, even though this victim had died, evidence found at where she was left by the unsub, strongly suggested she had accidentally fallen into the river herself. The unsub had left her near the river but just as near to the road.

In her blind state, she'd picked the direction heading toward the river and drowned.

Hotch rubbed his forehead, closing the file.

"...Hotch," JJ called out as she entered the room. She'd been trying once more to arrange interviews with the other victims, yet still received only refusals. "They've identified the victim who drowned."

Hotch looked up, his expression asking the question before his words. "Who was she?"

"...Julie Vaughn." JJ replied after a brief second. Hotch drew in a breath hearing the name, having just interviewed her father a few hours ago about her mother's sudden disappearance.

"Has her father, Randy Vaughn, been notified yet?" Hotch's eyes narrowed slightly, considering the lack of rape with this victim in a new light.

"Morgan and Rossi are bringing him in now." JJ replied, she continued before Hotch could voice another question. "Before marking Mr. Vaughn as a suspect, you should know Garcia's already checked in on his alibi. He was out of town for those two weeks. And, turns out it wasn't a business trip."

"...he was having an affair?"

"With a married man." JJ finished, dashing the theory Hotch had started to consider. "It'd been going on for seven years, and according to the man Randy was seeing, Amy Vaughn knew about it. According to him, Randy and Amy's marriage was one of convenience to placate Randy's parents."

"What about their daughters? If he's their biological father..."

"That's the other thing Garcia found out. Amber is Randy's biological daughter but was conceived through in-vitro fertilization." JJ paused. "Julie, on the other hand, was already four when Amy and Randy met."

"So Randy Vaughn's her step-father..." Hotch said as he considered this new information. He also thought back to how Mr. Vaughn had reacted when he questioned him before. Randy Vaughn's concern for his wife and love for his daughters was genuine. He wasn't their unsub.

"..." JJ opened her mouth to speak further when Mr. Vaughn's anguished voice echoed through the corridor outside the room.

"Where's Julie?! I want to see my daughter!" Randy Vaughn's voice reached them despite the door being closed.

JJ and Hotch shared a look. Sometimes this job sucked.

0

Spencer searched through their victims' files again, trying to find some commonality. The anguish cry Randy Vaughn had given after being told about his daughter Julie reverberated in Spencer's thoughts. It wasn't something he'd ever get used to - though he was sure Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were all more affected by it since they were parents.

He swallowed, briefly pondering the same what if scenario he'd repeated considered over the years. If Maeve...

Spencer cleared his throat and shook his head, bringing his attention squarely back to the files. There had to be something that could link their victims, other than just being in the Niagara Falls-Buffalo region of Western New York when they were abducted.

"Wait..." Spencer furrowed his brow, looking at each victim's driver license or ID photo that showed what they looked like before their attack. Aside from all the unsub's victims being Caucasian, their age, hair color, and eye color had all varied, precluding a type.

At least at first glance.

Spencer noted the different eye colors: blue, green, gray, hazel, as well as hair colors: ranging from various shades of red, blonde and black. None of the victims had brown eyes, and only one had hair that could be considered brown. The shade however could be taken as a reddish blonde rather than brown.

Considering the statistics on brown eyes and brown hair, that both were predominant worldwide, and that the unsub chose a tourist hub as his hunting ground: the fact that none of the victims had either suggested the unsub wasn't choosing them at random. Rather he was deliberately not choosing those with brown eyes or hair.

Spencer's brow furrowed more, considering why an unsub would have a preference against a certain type rather than for it. An idea occurred to him just as Rossi opened the door.

"Police just brought in Amy Vaughn." Rossi told Spencer. "She was at the Amtrak station."

"...She was trying to leave the area?" Spencer asked, puzzled. If Amy Vaughn hadn't been abducted by their unsub, why had she not been home or answered her husband's calls? And what about her alleged agoraphobia?

"Hotch and JJ are still questioning Randy Vaughn about his daughters, so I was heading to question Amy Vaughn. Care to join in?"

Spencer nodded, following Rossi to the room Amy Vaughn had been brought. On the way he filled Rossi in on what he discovered, as well as the possible explanation behind it.

"If that is what he's doing, he's either gutsy or smart or both." Rossi replied, considering Spencer's theory that the unsub was deliberately picking victims not his type. As well as it being possible that the unsub had assaulted women matching his type before and hadn't been caught.

"He's taunting the police. Saying 'you can't catch me, I've done this before and you don't realize it.'" Spencer said, feeling a sense of certainty. This part of their conversation stopped as they entered the room to question Amy Vaughn.

0

Amy Vaughn trembled, eyes downcast as Rossi and Spencer entered the room. She picked at the skin around her fingernails.

"Mrs. Vaughn," Rossi approached the table: the room was a spare meeting room, not an interrogation one. "I'm SSA David Rossi and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We're..."

Amy Vaughn, having been only nervous before, became suddenly terrified. Her round, hazel eyes looked at Rossi, giving the impression of a deer caught in the headlights. The next few seconds passed in silence before Amy caught herself and quickly averted her gaze back to her hands.

"...I didn't know the FBI were here." Amy said, picking more at her nails before realizing what she was doing and stopping it. She interlocked her hands together, stopping her nervous body language.

Unlucky for her, neither Rossi nor Spencer missed any of her peculiar behavior. Spencer glanced at Rossi, noticing that the elder agent studied Amy closely. It seemed like he was trying to figure out if he and she had met before. Considering her reaction to his name and the terrified stare she gave him, it was possible - probable - that Rossi had met her before. Most likely on another case.

Rossi considered Amy quietly, wondering if he should've brought her to an interrogation room instead. Her reaction screamed guilt, add to that her attempting to leave the region before police brought her in and that the only victim the unsub hadn't raped was her daughter - Amy Vaughn was hiding something. Most likely the identity of their unsub.

"Who is he?" Rossi went with the direct approach and remained where he was.

"..." Amy stared up at him, showing the same terrified and guilty expression. Rossi repeated the question, specifying that he wanted the name of the rapist. It seemed a few minutes passed before Amy Vaughn realized what he'd asked. She managed to stop herself before giving a relieved sigh.

Rossi and Spencer still caught it however. It perplexed them, and for a second both wondered if Amy would deny knowing the unsub.

"Jam...Kevin Wagner. My son." Amy spoke, her voice clear though she had amended the name and put a strange emphasis on the word 'son'. Like she was lying, but desperately wanted to be believed.

Rossi considered Amy and her answer for a moment, before requesting she remain there in case they had further questions. He then motioned Spencer to follow him out into the hall.

"That was strange." Spencer said.

"Yeah, tell me about it." Rossi mumbled, already dialing Garcia's number. "What's bizarre is I swear I've seen her before but it wasn't during a case."

"Well, um..."

"No, it wasn't on a date either." Rossi replied reading Spencer's suggestion on the younger agent's face. The next moment Garcia had answered his call. "Garcia, look up everything you can on a Kevin Wagner. And Amy Vaughn... No, Amy Wagner..."

Rossi's eyes widened then narrowed in confusion, suddenly realizing where he'd met Amy Vaughn before. However it just made things more confusing, it had had nothing to do with his job or a case.

"Rossi...?"

Rossi quietly ended his call to Garcia, impressing on her the importance of getting that information asap. He turned back to study Amy Vaughn, wondering why she would be terrified of him. The hospital hadn't been at fault...

That's where he'd met her before. While visiting with Carolyn after their son James had been declared dead. She had just given birth herself, and had offered condolences to Carolyn.

While Rossi stared through the glass at Amy Vaughn, mulling things over in his head, she suddenly met his gaze. That same terrified look flashed across her face, only now it seemed even more so. It was like she feared he knew...

Rossi's stomach clenched, reading Amy Vaughn's expression; a sickening feeling he could only describe as horror filled him.

 _'No.'_

"...Rossi?" Spencer watched the older agent, worried at the sudden anger and horror that splashed across Rossi's face.

Instead of answering Rossi turned and left, storming down the corridor. Mentally denying what he'd read in Amy Vaughn's face, though it was the only explanation that could account for her bizarre behavior. As well as her slip when saying her son, their unsub's...

He stopped suddenly, taking a sharp inhale of breath. _'No, no, no...she has to be delusional...or just unhinged...or I just read too much into it...It can't...'_

"Rossi?" Hotch called out to him, having noticed the older agent storm down the hall and then suddenly stop. He stood just outside the door to the room where he'd been talking to Randy Vaughn.

"I just need some air, Hotch." Rossi replied, heading toward the exit before the man could question further.


	8. Ceases To Be a Secret

_A/N: I've been thinking about writing a criminal minds/five nights at freddy's crossover. What do you guys think?_

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 8:** Ceases To Be A Secret

"Rossi." Hotch followed the older man outside, not content with his claim on needing fresh air. "What is it?"

"It's nothing, Hotch." Rossi replied, though it was evident that something was agitating him. Hotch studied him quietly. "Amy Vaughn gave us the name of the unsub. Kevin Wagner. Garcia's checking it out now."

Hotch was about to respond, when Rossi's cell phone rang. It was Garcia. Placing the call on speaker, Rossi greeted her.

"Garcia, you're on speaker, what have you found out?"

 _-"Well, I was able to find a Kevin Wagner Sr. who had been on the sex registry. He died around seven years ago." Garcia replied. "Before you interrupt, I was able to find out he had been married. To an Amy Wagner, who, going by the ID photos is Amy Vaughn. They had a son, named Kevin James Wagner." Garcia replied, giving a few more details like his birthday. -_

"Does he have any history of violent behavior? Any sexual in nature?" Hotch asked, eyeing Rossi briefly after the elder agent drew in a breath at the name and birth date.

 _-"That's the strange part. There's files on him until age twelve, including ones that show he was in and out of hospitals a lot. About three to five times a month. With everything from sprained ankles, broken bones, you name it." Garcia said, her tone reflecting her anguish as she read files that clearly revealed horrible abuse.-_

"...that many hospital visits must have had set off some flags with child services." Hotch replied. Rossi remained quietly listening, his expression showing deep thought.

 _-"You'd think so. But there's none. No reports to child services."-_

"What?!" Rossi interjected.

 _-"Yeah," Garcia replied, outraged herself at the lack of notice given for such a blatant case of abuse. "And it gets worse and stranger. After Kevin Wagner Jr turned twelve there's nothing on him. No police files or missing persons or even a death certificate. Nothing."-_

"Thanks, Garcia. Call us if you find anything else." Hotch said, watching Rossi. He had noticed the perculiar way the older man had acted during the conversation.

"We need to question Amy Vaughn again." Rossi said, about to head back inside after putting his phone away.

"I agree. But first..." Hotch grabbed Rossi's arm, stopping him from darting back inside. "What is it, Rossi? What's got you worked up?"

Rossi considered the question, wondering if he should voice what had occurred while interviewing Amy Vaughn and his suspicions to what it meant. He could be way off base, despite his gut telling him otherwise.

"I met Amy Vaughn before." Rossi replied. Hotch's brow rose slightly, but otherwise didn't respond. Just knowing their witness/victim wouldn't have caused Rossi to be this agitated. "She was at the hospital when I visited Carolyn after our son..."

Hotch listened, knowing some about Rossi's son with his first wife dying shortly after birth. As a father himself, he empathized with Rossi. The amount of agitation coming from his friend and team mate, though, seemed off. "Rossi, I..."

"When Reid and I questioned her, Amy Vaughn grew terrified after hearing who I was." Rossi continued. "She wasn't afraid when she was brought in, and she calmed down after she realized I was questioning her about the serial rapes."

Hotch listened, following along Rossi's train of thought. His eyes widened before narrowing in thought after he realized what the senior agent had been thinking.

"You think she..."

"She's hiding something. And it isn't about this case." Rossi said, meeting Hotch's eye. "I...I don't know whether I want to be right or wrong about this, but...my gut is saying that she switched..." Rossi drew in a breath, steadying himself. "And I've been in this field long enough to trust my gut."

"...there's a simple way to find out one way or the other." Hotch replied, not revealing whether he agreed with Rossi's gut feeling.

"No." Rossi suddenly said, shaking his head. "We need to find this unsub. He likely already has another victim. Everything else can wait until afterwards."

Rossi headed back inside the building, and towards the room where Amy Vaughn had been left. It took only moments to realize that something was wrong.

Some sort of commotion had started up in that room and Spencer's voice was among it. Suddenly the sound of a gun firing and the smell of gunpowder filtered into the hall.

0

Kevin James Wagner sat back, meditating while listening to the woman's sobs. Her pleas for him to let her go had grown weaker during the interval between when he had finished with her remaining eye till moments ago. She merely cried now, her lips quivering.

 _'Finish. Finish.'_

Beneath the dim yellow light placed above his workbench, he studied her. He nibbled on his fingernail, counting as her sobs grew quieter. The part he enjoyed best was almost over.

He smirked, his dark eyes focusing ahead. Taking a syringe from among the items on the workbench, he licked his lips and injected himself. As the intoxicating liquid made it's way through his bloodstream, he made his way towards the woman.

0

Spencer held his right hand clenched over his left abdomen, his dress shirt quickly turning red. Blood gushed from where the bullet had hit him. He struggled to stay focused, his brown eyes staring forward at Amy Vaughn standing and pointing his gun at him.

He had simply been attempting to inform her about her daughter Julie, when she had collapsed. Though, he'd realized too late, that she'd only pretended to collapse. Shortly after he had hurried to help her up, she grabbed his gun, wrenching it from its holster.

He had struggled to stop her, but it had gone off.

"Put the gun down!" He heard the door burst open, and Rossi's voice. Followed by Hotch and JJ giving Amy Vaughn similar commands. Each of them had their own guns drawn, Rossi and Hotch from the doorway, and JJ from the windowed side of the room that ran along the north hallway.

Spencer applied more pressure to his wound, struggling to stay awake. The whole time hoping that Amy Vaughn wouldn't fire on his team. He didn't want to think about any of his team getting shot by his gun.

"Put the gun down, Mrs. Vaughn." Hotch moved closer to the woman, reading the terror on her face. It was mixed with horror at what she'd just done. "Rossi, check on Reid."

Rossi did so, putting away his gun and heading to where Spencer had fallen. He helped apply pressure to the young agent's wound, while Hotch situated himself between them and Amy Vaughn.

"Mrs. Vaughn, this won't help you. Put down the gun. You're in a police station, filled with cops, there's no way you'll be able to shoot yourself out." Hotch spoke firmly, the officers in question aiming their own guns from the hallway side of the windowed room.

While Hotch talked to and approached Amy Vaughn, Rossi helped move Spencer to the hall. There he and a few officers provided first aid to the barely conscious agent while waiting for the paramedics.

"Rossi..." Spencer blinked, his vision blurred. The blood flow from his wound slowed, but not stopped.

"You'll be okay, kiddo." Rossi said, staring at the youngest of their team. The agitation he'd felt earlier was erased, replaced by worry. The paramedics reached them just as another gun shot went off.

"That..." Spencer mumbled, trying to see what had happened only to be forced onto a gurney board by the paramedics. He passed out while mumbling that Amy Vaughn had taken his gun and that he didn't want them shot by it.

"Spence!" JJ stowed her gun and hurried to the gurney taking Spencer outside to the ambulance. She followed behind.

It was at this moment Hotch finally left the room, Amy Vaughn lying dead on the floor behind him.

"How's Reid?" Hotch asked Rossi, who replied that Spencer had passed out and was being brought out to the ambulance. Also that JJ was with him. "You go with them. I'll call the others and meet you there."

Rossi did so, not that he would've done otherwise.

It wasn't until Rossi had exited that Hotch called Garcia.

 _-"Sir, I haven't found any..."-_

"Reid's been shot. He's on his way to the hospital now."

 _-"Oh my god! Is he going to be okay? What happened?" Garcia started panicking, eyes watering at the thought of not being there when one of her team was hurt.-_

"Garcia," Hotch said after reassuring her that Spencer would be okay, and explaining that it was unclear what had happened. "I'm going to need to call Morgan and Lewis, but...there's something I need you to look into."

 _-"What is it? Is it something to do with Reid being shot?" Garcia asked, more than keen to do something - anything - if it was to help their youngest member. -_

Hotch glanced at the room where Amy Vaughn still laid, recalling what she had told him after he'd been forced to shoot her. After she fell, he'd rushed to check on her, and heard her mumble an apology.

He'd first thought it was about shooting Reid, but when he asked she clarified what she meant.

 _x  
_

 _"Tell him I'm sorry." Amy Vaughn whispered, her dying voice just loud enough for Hotch to hear. "I just wanted a baby. I just...I lost two, I couldn't...I just wanted a baby...and James...tell Rossi I'm sorry..."_

 _x  
_

"I need you to run the DNA sample from our unsub against the FBI database." Hotch told Garcia, interrupting her when she tried to protest that it'd been done and that there had been no matches. "It's not to find the unsub, but to see if he's related to someone. And when I say the FBI database, I mean the agent database. He...he may be related to an agent." Hotch hesitated, deciding not to reveal his suspicion to Garcia. "And, Garcia, don't tell anyone else on the team about this."

 _-"But..."-_

"No buts. This stays between us until the results are in. Trust me." Hotch said, ending the call shortly after in order to call Morgan and Lewis.


	9. Recognition

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 9:** Recognition

"Help!" The woman scurried through the thicket, trying her best to navigate despite her newly acquired lack of sight. Her eye sockets had been sutured and cleaned, before a bandaged had been secured over them. Done carefully so, without a blemish.

Not that she cared, she just wanted - needed - to get away. The man who'd done this to her had let her free, though she had no idea where. It was a grassy area with bushes and some thorny plants. Her ankles and feet got pricked quite a bit as she ran.

Standing where he'd released her, James Wagner watched as the woman ran. He could see the enormity of her fear in the way she scurried away. He felt like a cat reprieving a mouse after toying with it. Only he felt no need to kill it.

Why kill his toy when it'd be much more satisfying knowing he could hunt it again. None of them would even see him coming or know he was watching. Not a single one had seen his face. Except Julie...

James smirked, heading back to his van recalling her. It'd been empowering, convincing her to visit this city. Three months ago, he'd seen her and he knew. She'd been nearing her fourth birthday when their - _her_ \- mom left him in that place. Despite that, he recognized her - though that was likely because Julie resembled their - _her_ \- mother.

"..." He exhaled, starting up the van. He grimaced each time he thought of Amy Wagner - Vaughn now. The woman he'd called mom, that he trusted yet had abandoned him: every time he thought of her, anger as biting as a newly sharpened knife roiled his stomach.

 _"Momma. Don't go. Momma." He'd pleaded with her, his twelve year old self being held back by the man in the white coat. His cries did nothing to halt her. Though they continued until he could no longer see her._

James gripped the steering wheel, teeth clenched firmly together. The next second he scowled and drove on. The road taking him toward downtown Niagara Falls, his dark brown eyes scanned the sidewalks.

"Probably, shouldn't." He licked his top lip, considering whether to find another target or to wait. He approached the intersection just before the hospital, flipping on his turn signal. Tomorrow he would scour the downtown tourist area, tonight he would head to the room he was renting.

His brown eyes narrowed at the black SUV parking outside the hospital; curious he turned into the pharmacy parking lot just across the street. He parked and watched the vehicle, his mind wondering.

"Oh...interesting..." He sat back in the driver's seat, mouth twisting between a frown and a smile. Turning off the engine of his van, James watched as the agents exited their vehicle and entered the hospital.

One of them in particular caught his eye.

Rubbing his chin in contemplation, he watched until each of the agents had entered the hospital. Once the door had shut behind the last one, James opened the glove-box and pulled out two items. One of which was a gun.

0

"How is Reid?" Morgan asked JJ as he, along with Lewis, approached her and Rossi. It had taken near an hour for him and Lewis to arrive from the crime scene where Julie Vaughn had been found.

"He's still in surgery." JJ replied, her tone and body language worried. "It'll take a while longer according to the surgeon. The bullet may have nicked his spleen, so they're working on repairing the damage."

"What the hell happened?" Morgan said after taking in what JJ said, frustrated at not being able to do anything to help. After receiving Hotch's call about Spencer, he and Lewis had rushed to the hospital.

"A witness brought in for questioning apparently tried to take Reid's gun and it fired during the struggle." Rossi explained, piecing together what had occurred based on what Spencer had managed to tell him before passing out.

Morgan drew in an angry breath, shaking his head. "Tell me the bastard's in custody."

"You don't have to worry about that." Hotch said as he approached, catching the tail-end of the conversation. He quickly asked about Reid, getting the same response as Morgan.

"Hotch..." Morgan started to ask, his question soon answered when Hotch explained that the person who shot Reid had forced Hotch to shoot her. He sighed.

"That's..." Lewis paused. "When you said 'witness' did you mean one of the vic..."

"No. Not exactly." Hotch replied, explaining how Amy Vaughn hadn't been abducted like they'd thought, but had been brought in from the Amtrak station.

"...damn." Morgan paced, letting the rest of his questions go and instead checking the door heading toward the operating room.

"There's nothing we can do, waiting here. We still have a case." Hotch spoke after a few seconds of silence, though he too was reluctant to return focus to their unsub. The thing that nudged him was Amy Vaughn's dying confession and it's implications.

"Hotch..." Morgan protested, along with JJ. Rossi and Lewis, though remaining silent, gave looks that expressed the same sentiment as Morgan.

"...I understand, but our unsub probably has another victim. A..." The sound of his cell phone interrupted Hotch. After checking caller ID, he answered it but not before taking a few steps away from the team. Enough that they wouldn't overhear. "Yes, Garcia?"

 _-"Why didn't you warn me what I was going to find?!" Garcia demanded, her tone not even slightly cheerful. It was more distressed than angry.-_

"The DNA..." Hotch's stomach knotted at Garcia's reaction. It knotted further as Garcia confirmed what he'd feared. Though it was only a preliminary comparison, it showed a strong familial connection to Rossi. "No, I'll tell Rossi. You..." He paused, listening to Garcia saying she was going to join them in Western New York, whether he agreed or not. After a moment, Hotch sighed and agreed that Garcia should come to them.

Hotch put away his phone soon after saying goodbye to Garcia; facing away from his team he hadn't noticed Rossi approach.

"..." Rossi simply stared at Hotch, studying the younger man.

"Dave..." Hotch said quietly, glancing at the rest of the team waiting closer to the surgery room. "We should talk privately."

"You...you ran the DNA against the database, didn't you?" Rossi accused once the two of them reached the near empty waiting area.

"Yes." Hotch replied, explaining that he'd asked Garcia to run the DNA looking for possible relatives. He further revealed what Amy Vaughn had told him before she died.

"...what?" Rossi drew in a breath, feeling the same mix of emotions when he'd interviewed the woman, only more intense.

"Amy Vaughn apologized. And admitted to switching her son with yours..."

Rossi swore, a gauntlet of emotions running through him.

A dry chuckle from just a few feet away, drew their attention. The only other person in the waiting area - whom they assumed was waiting for another patient - had neared close and quietly enough to listen in on their conversation.

The two agents were about to tell the stranger to mind his own business, when he backed away.

"Sorry." James said, his dark brown eyes smirking as he eyed Hotch and Rossi. He made his expression contrite while backing away and mumbling about being a fan.

Retreating toward the corridor leading away from the waiting area, James smirked the moment he was turned away from the two men. He continued toward the elevator, feeling until he reached there that at least one of the agents continued to watch him.

James entered the elevator and leaned against its back wall, his eyes locking on the FBI agents who'd both continued to watch him. Before the elevator doors closed he mouthed something towards them, and smirked watching the confusion.

Hotch watched as the stranger left, his brow knitted in thought; his instincts had told him that something about the stranger was off.

"...did he just say 'look at the book'?" Rossi asked, having sensed the same uneasiness that Hotch had.

"I think so..." Hotch paused, his gaze alighting on a book that had been left on the chair the stranger had been sitting in. He approached it wordlessly, but swift. It was one of Rossi's.

Hotch quickly opened its cover, his stomach roiling before he even saw the first Polaroid. Julia Vaughn, sans eyes, was tied and gagged in the photo.

His and Rossi's reactions were immediate.

0

James coolly switched from the elevator he'd been on to the one next to it once it stopped at the first floor down. Its timing impeccable, the neighboring elevator had been about to close when he'd managed to slip in. He heard the shouts of the agents as they just missed seeing him slip inside the other elevator.

"What are you doing? This is the express elevator. The next stop is a restricted..." The sole other occupant of the elevator demanded, only to shut up the moment James pulled out his firearm.

"Still restricted?" James pointed the gun against the man's head. He noted the white coat and employee ID. "Dr. Connell?"

"I don't want any trouble." Dr. Connell replied, voice shaking. The next moment James ripped off the ID, the card being a bar-coded one that could be scanned for access to restricted areas.

"Now your coat." James said, prodding the side of Connell's head with his gun to emphasize his seriousness. Connell quickly complied, taking off and handing over his white doctors coat. "That wasn't so bad now."

James punched Dr. Connell in the abdomen and immediately afterwards in the face. The other man sunk to the floor as the elevator dinged its arrival on the restricted floor.


	10. James Rossi

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 10:** James Rossi

"This hospital needs to be placed on lock-down." Hotch told the hospital head of security. They'd tried to get to their unsub before he left the elevator, but instead found out he'd managed to slip onto the express one. "And my team needs access to the restricted floor."

"Hotch, is it true? The unsub approached you and Rossi?" Lewis asked. She, Morgan, and JJ had been alerted to what had happened after the unsub eluded Rossi and Hotch.

"Yes, he did." Hotch replied. Upon being alerted to what had occurred, Morgan had gone with Rossi up to the hospital's restricted floor, while Lewis came with him to secure the other floors. JJ had remained outside the surgery ward.

"Why did he do that? We didn't even know what he looked like before this."

Hotch remained quiet for a moment, not wanting to mention the connection their unsub had with Rossi. He hadn't managed to tell Rossi the results of the DNA comparison, the unsub having interrupted just after Hotch told Rossi what Amy Vaughn had confessed.

"Hotch?"

0

Rossi and Morgan waited outside the door leading to the restricted ward. It was, according to employees, just a storage area for files and medical equipment. Part of it was also currently undergoing renovations.

The doors leading to it from the stairwells were too reinforced to be kicked in. And the express elevator allowing access to it had been disabled in some way by the unsub. All that could be done was to wait for the key-card that had the required access-permission to open the door.

"This unsub..." Morgan shook his head and glanced through the vertical window in the door. He stood ready, checking for any sign of the unsub. "Why did he take the express elevator up rather than continue down?"

"He figured we were on to him, and that he wouldn't have time to flee." Rossi said, his tone hiding the tumult of emotion going through him. Though Hotch hadn't yet told him the results of the DNA familial comparison, he knew the answer. He'd figured it out immediately when Hotch had said they should speak privately.

"But why show up here at all? He left the book and told you and Hotch to look in it, right? Why?" Morgan asked, trying to figure out this unsub's motive for doing so. It'd seemed counter-intuitive for their unsub - who had so far eluded them and the local police - to go out of his way to catch their attention.

"He said he was a fan." Rossi mumbled, recalling the book holding the Polaroids. It was a copy of one of his published works, the last one he'd written prior to returning to the BAU. Though it being one of his works wasn't what bothered him. "...I signed it. It had my signature on the title page."

"So you met him before. Rossi, you can't beat yourself about..." Morgan was interrupted by steps approaching from below. It was Hotch holding the key-card needed to bypass the door.

"Here." Hotch handed Morgan the key-card, while side-glancing at Rossi. "Lewis and JJ are going to be on stand-by at this floor's other exit, in case he tries escaping that way."

"All right. Ready?" Morgan said, glancing at Hotch and Rossi. He got the feeling they were holding something back, however he refrained from questioning them. He trusted both of them.

"...yeah." Rossi mumbled while Hotch nodded. The three of them soon entered through the door, guns drawn.

0

James leafed through the files packed in boxes near the far end of the room. Where he sat snug between two tall shelves filled with boxes of files yet to be digitized or destroyed. He paused, listening carefully for footsteps.

Though slight, he heard a scuffling. The sound of footsteps. He scoffed when he heard one of those combing through the floor call out the name Kevin Wagner.

James scowled. "That's not my name."

The footsteps changed direction after he called out. It wasn't long before three sets of feet neared the alcove.

"Kev..."

"I said that's not my name." James growled, picking up the gun that he had placed on top of the closest box. He heard the same voice about to respond but instead it stopped, another voice whispering.

There was another voice that joined in, and one of the pairs of feet approached without hesitance, despite the other two trying to get this third one to wait.

"James, come in quietly." David Rossi said after stepping into view, just at the start of the makeshift alcove. His heart thudded quickly in his chest, his gun aimed toward the younger man. Rossi's eyes took in the dark hair and eyes of James, as well as the young man's face. Finally recognizing the similarities. He was glad that Hotch had told Morgan to check on Dr. Connell, who had been on the elevator when James had sneaked on.

"..." James studied Rossi, his own gun pointed toward the older man.

"Put it down, James." Hotch said, aiming at him through a gap between boxes on the shelf. The younger man glanced at him, before quickly returning his attention to Rossi.

"Well..." James drawled out that word, the corners of his mouth twitching. He studied Rossi, his firearm still aimed directly at the man's chest. "I see you got my message."

"Those photos, yeah." Rossi said, observing the younger man. His thoughts and emotions were jumbled - this man in front of him was the unsub, responsible for numerous rapes and mutilations. Maybe even more than they knew, if Reid's theory was right that this recent spree was a taunt to the authorities.

Yet this man was also James. Hair color, eye color, face structure...there was no denying the resemblance between the two of them. The kind between father and son.

"James." Rossi approached slowly, about to holster his handgun.

"You put your gun away and I'll fire." James scowled, his body language and how he tightened his grip on his firearm revealing he wasn't bluffing.

Rossi renewed his aim at James, another emotion joining the tumult inside him. Confusion mixed with dread.

 _'What?_ ' Rossi swallowed, steadying himself at the unexpected threat. The usual demand from an unsub would be the opposite - for agents and police to lower their weapons. That James demanded Rossi not lower his suggested that the former didn't have escape in mind.

James smirked. "...I've thought about this for three years."

Hotch listened, understanding same as Rossi what James had in mind: Suicide by cop. Though worse, his gut told him, this unsub - James - wanted Rossi to do it. Would force him to do so.

"Is that when you found out?" Hotch spoke, still aiming his firearm at James. The latter once more glanced at him, lingering a second before returning to Rossi. "That you were switched as a newborn?"

"Oh, I knew that long before then. Kevin Wagner Sr told me when I turned five, when..." James paused, giving a 'hm' sound. "Well, I probably don't need to elaborate on that, do I?"

The way James said it, and what they knew of Kevin Wagner Sr, made elaboration unnecessary. The reports Garcia had uncovered from James' childhood: about the hospital visits and Wagner being a registered sex offender, weighed on Hotch's mind. As it did on Rossi's.

"James..."

"I always wondered," James began still not pressing the trigger or even attempting to since threatening to shoot Rossi. This, along with the calmness in James' demeanor started the two agents to reassess things. "Why you didn't look for me. Why you never realized..."

"..." Rossi drew in a breath, hearing the same questions that echoed with the emotional storm inside his brain. Why didn't he realize what'd happened all those years ago? Had his grief gotten in the way of his instincts?

"...then I learned you were told I died." James gave a derisive laugh.

"James, we can talk about this once you're in custody. Put down the gun, and we'll talk." Rossi stepped closer, his thoughts considering the women who were victimized. None of them had actually been killed, the only one who'd died had fallen into the river accidentally. It was possible, that while James was a rapist and mutilator, he wasn't a killer. Working on a hunch, Rossi lowered his gun.

"What! I said, you lower your gun, I'll shoot!" James snarled, pressing the trigger but not enough to fire. He didn't fire even when Rossi holstered his firearm and approached closer.

"You're not going to fire." Rossi said, stopping just two and a half feet away. "You'd have done so in the waiting room if you were. If you could..." Rossi added the last bit after observing the gun up close. The distance between them before had obscured it, but now he could see the stopper placed just inside the gun's muzzle. It was a replica of a gun. "Hotch, it's a fake gun."

James scowled, his wrist twitching at his bluff being called; he glowered at Rossi and then at Hotch as the two approached to cuff him. He thought for a moment whether to resist, and decided against it quickly. Physically resistance would be useless.

"Well-" He drawled, smirking as he was lead out of the alcove. "This has been fun. Quite a reunion. By the way, I left my latest gift in Hyde Park. Perhaps she's still wandering around..."

James laughed, watching the effect his taunts had on Rossi. He saw as disgust, then anger, and then horror passed over the elder man's face.

"Ohh, what a face. Looks like you wanna hit something...why don't ya? Come on. I'm used to it." James laughed again, seeing how his last sentence caused Rossi to tense. "So you do know about that..."

0

 _"Come here. Now. Now." A woman with menacing burgundy hair, and eyes a cold gray, nearly shrieked as she pulled the girl away. "Leigh!"_

 _He stared, shocked and confused. The woman pulled the girl away, the chess game they'd just been playing, abandoned. He hesitated, chewing on his lip - the girl had called the woman 'momma.'_

 _"Um..." He watched as they left, the woman gripping the girl's wrist tightly. He could hear the woman berating her daughter for hanging out with 'that boy.' His eyebrows knit in part hurt and part confusion._

 _Even more strong was the sense that this wasn't right. But the girl had identified the woman as her mother..._

 _"Spencer..." His own mother called to him from behind him, and he turned around toward her._

Spencer stirred in the hospital bed, the beeping of the machines pulling him from his dream. His brown eyes fluttered open and he made a sound between a whine and a groan. The sort of sound one made when they didn't want to wake but were forced.

"Spence!" JJ exclaimed as she noticed him waking, her voice bringing in Garcia.

"Hey, JJ." Spencer attempted to sit up, only to be cautioned against it. That he might pull his stitches if he wasn't careful. He blinked, recalling getting shot; he lied back down. "When did you get here, Garcia?"

"About thirty minutes ago." Garcia replied, smiling at him being awake and all right. It had terrified her when she'd heard he had been shot.

Lying silently in bed, Spencer smiled back. His dream slid back into his subconscious, not forgotten but filed away to think about later.

"In a few days, the doctors say you should be well enough to be transferred to a hospital in D.C." JJ said, giving a reassuring smile though Spencer caught a glimpse that something was distressing both of them.

"What about the case? Did you find the unsub? Did something..." Spencer sat up, concerned; only to be chastised to lie back down - both by JJ and Garcia, and by a stab of pain from his bandaged abdomen.

"Careful!" JJ and Garcia nudged him back into lying down. "Don't worry about the case. We caught the unsub. He's in custody."

Spencer relaxed slightly, relieved by JJ's words as well as the soreness of his bandaged wound. That soreness meant he hadn't been mistakenly given morphine or other narcotics by the doctors. Not that he often feared something like that happening, but once in a while he did consider the probability of it.

His brow furrowed, wondering what the two were distressed about. He was about to ask, getting worried that someone else had been injured, when Garcia spoke.

"The unsub's Rossi's son James." Garcia blurted out, while JJ crossed her arms. After James had been brought into custody, Hotch had informed the rest of them of the connection between Rossi and the unsub. None of them had believed it at first - most of them hadn't known about Rossi having had a child with his first wife.

"What?" Spencer's eyes widened and searched for any signs of deception. Though he knew this was something none of them would lie about. "How is that possible? That's..."

"Amy Vaughn apparently switched her son with Rossi's at the hospital shortly after both were born." JJ replied, explaining what Hotch had told them. "Her son had died and...she switched them."

Spencer hesitated before responding, trying to mentally digest what he'd just been told. It was bizarre and horrible. He knew that newborns being switched in or kidnapped from hospitals did happen, but while the latter was a deliberate act, the former was usually accidental.

"...how is Rossi?" Spencer asked.


	11. Interrogation

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 11:** Interrogation **  
**

James smirked, sitting alone in the interrogation room, his hands cuffed. He waited, his eyes roaming over his reflection in the observation window. Though he couldn't see them, he knew the agents were on the other side, watching him. That's what these half-mirrored windows were for after all.

He leaned back in his chair, wondering if David Rossi was observing him. His biological father who hadn't searched for him but had instead believed the doctor saying he had died...James didn't know whether he felt hatred or disappointment for the elder man.

Anger, yes, but hatred was what he felt for Amy, who had pretended to be his mother, yet had abandoned him when he was twelve.

 _'She's dead now.'_ James repeated in his thoughts like a litany. After being brought into custody he had managed to glean that bit of info. It disappointed him that he hadn't been present at the time.

0

"Dave." Hotch addressed Rossi as he approached the older man. Rossi barely made any sign that he heard, instead staring at James through the interrogation room window. "You should take some time to process things. Perhaps visit Reid in the hospital, JJ called saying he's awake. Morgan and I will handle the questioning."

"..." Rossi took in a deep breath, shaking his head. "No. I can't do that. I need to understand what happened. How did James..."

"Dave, I can't let you question him. He was deliberately trying to rile you up the whole way here." Hotch replied. After they had arrested him at the hospital, James had taunted Rossi with only thinly veiled accusations that Rossi was a terrible father for never realizing what Amy Vaughn had done. Even less subtle were the tidbits James gave about the abuse he'd suffered growing up.

"...what if this was your son, Hotch? Would you be able to just leave? Wouldn't you want to understand what happened and why?" Rossi snapped, turning to face Hotch.

Hotch swallowed, the question not unexpected. He had actually asked himself those same questions. And he empathized with Rossi a lot - if it was him going through this rather than Rossi, Hotch knew he'd react just like the older man.

"I would. I would want to know." Hotch nodded. "But Dave, if you go in there, James is going to try riling you up and pushing your buttons just like he did coming to the station. We still need to get his confession."

Rossi glared at Hotch, about to protest.

"David, the sophistication that went into the abductions and ocular mutilations suggest these aren't James' first victims." Hotch continued, stopping only when Rossi inhaled sharply. The older man's demeanor livid as well as disconcerted.

"...fine. But I'm not leaving. I'll watch from this side." Rossi replied, once more staring at James through the glass. He shook his head slightly. It was uncanny, looking at his grown up son after so many years of believing he was dead. The fact that James was their unsub, even more so.

"You can't blame yourself for this, Dave. What Amy Vaughn did wasn't something you could've known at the time." Hotch said, though Rossi didn't reply except to say Hotch and Morgan should get on with the interview.

0

"What?!" A man, with peppered hair and a wizened face, growled into his office phone. He sat in an office chair, at a desk meticulously arrayed with papers, pens and other office utensils. "He's gotten in contact with them? How?"

The man listened, growing pale with each passing second. At the same time his beady, cold eyes grew more livid. His thin lips pulled taut.

"You had the opportunity to stop this from happening. You knew what his 'signature' would be..." He clicked his tongue, the protests from the other end grating his ears. His heavily wrinkled hands tensed holding the phone. What he had tried to circumvent decades ago by one key move had suddenly become a bane. "If those in the BAU find out the truth, it won't just be me facing prosecution. Understand? Do whatever it takes to stop them from finding out."

He hung up the phone around the same time his receptionist knocked at his office door, saying he'd been sent a package. Giving her the go ahead to enter, he reclined back on his chair. Trying not to allow his rage to be shown to the mid-aged woman bringing in the package.

"Thank you, Sarah. You can go home now, I'll finish filing the notes on today's patients."

"But Dr. Somerfield, there's a lot left to do..."

"It's fine. Isn't your grand daughter's recital today? I wouldn't want you to miss it. Her mother's in hospice, correct? You should take rest of today and tomorrow off. Paid vacation." Somerfield replied, prodding the receptionist until she agreed and thanked him.

He waited until she had left before opening the package.

Inside it was a pair of human eyes, with the irises painstakingly cut out. Just like the six other pairs that had been sent to him over the past month. Seeing them he sighed and shook his head.

"James, James, James." He repeated the name in a tone similar to how a caregiver would a child's name when they were disappointed. "You could have went anywhere. Hid, anywhere."

Somerfield exhaled and opened the locked bottom drawer of the armoire to the right of his desk. Inside were files, one of which he pulled out. This one thicker than the others.

"...how did you find out?" He muttered, perusing the file. "Who was it that told you?"

Somerfield continued through the file, the grandfather clock out in his office's corridor ticking away the seconds.

0

"Like I said, maybe there were, maybe there weren't." James replied, Hotch having repeated the question of whether there were more victims.

"That's not an answer. If you want any leniency shown to you, you need to answer our questions." Hotch replied, after nearly thirty minutes of questioning the young man he'd felt more frustrated than during any other interrogation. The first ten minutes James had been completely silent, his eyes on the observation window rather than the two agents.

It hadn't been until they had gotten up to leave when James responded.

"..." James smirked, giving a brief and almost humorless laugh.

"You think this is funny?" Morgan snapped. "We have you for the attacks on eight women. Your DNA and fingerprints were found on each of them."

"Only on seven of them. I didn't rape Julie." James corrected, leaning forward for a moment before sitting up straight. "Despite everything I still considered her my sister. Hah. And there are some lines I wouldn't cross..." He paused in thought, giving another mirthless laugh. "I did know someone that that wouldn't have mattered to, but...well, to each their own."

"Then why attack her at all?" Hotch asked, his frustration lessened slightly by James finally answering unambiguously.

James considered the question, tapping his foot as well as chewing a bit on his tongue while mulling it over. The fidgeting behaviors were something the agents had noticed before they'd even started questioning him.

"She was supposed to be a message to that liar mother of hers." James finally growled, his detest apparent.

"...Amy Vaughn raised you. She even reported her husband when you were ten and she realized the extent of his abuse towards you." Hotch said. Before beginning this interrogation, he had Garcia send all the information she'd been able to glean about the Wagner family. Though Amy had to have been privy to the physical abuse James had suffered from her first husband, she seemed not to have known Kevin Wagner Sr. had been a pedophile.

"Yeah, well she was more concerned with that bastard son of a devil harming her daughter than me." James replied, biting hard enough on his tongue to cause himself to wince. "Then again I wasn't really her son. Just a surrogate, so to speak."

"..." Morgan and Hotch studied James, pondering his word choice. "And these women you attacked, they were surrogates for Amy Vaughn?"

James tilted his head in response, but said nothing.

"If you hated her so much, and these women were surrogates for her, why didn't you kill them? Why leave them alive?" Morgan asked.

For the first time James hesitated, dropping his eyes to his hands.

"You couldn't, could you?" Hotch said after a moment considering things. "That's another line you wouldn't cross."

James took in a deep breath, his eyes locked on his own hands. The next moment he looked up, glaring at Hotch. "Why would I give them that peace? No more pain or fear? Ha! You know how many times growing up I wished - hoped - for that? Ha. Why would I show them that mercy? I never received it."

James leaned back in the chair again, no longer responding to either agent's questions. Instead he stared at the table, hands folded with his thumb nails pressing into his palm.

It was while Hotch and Morgan were leaving the interrogation room when James spoke again.

"...if you really want answers. Look into how m...Amy," James spat out the name. "Was able to switch babies without someone noticing. And when you find him, make sure you put him in the same cell with me."

Hotch and Morgan shared a look, surprised at the parting statement. James closed his eyes, his body language shouting that he would no longer talk to them.

Rossi met them outside the interrogation room, having watched the whole thing through the observation window.

"That last thing he said, about Amy Vaughn's switching the children not being noticed..." Rossi started, his son's words resonating with a suspicion he'd had ever since learning of the switch. That Amy couldn't have done it alone. "Could she have had help?"

"I don't know. James was a newborn at the time." Hotch replied. "It could be what he believes or was told by someone else."

"It makes sense though, her having help. While it would've been possible for her to kidnap another baby after losing hers, it's unlikely she'd be able to switch the two without someone knowing." Morgan said.

Rossi drew in a breath, his mind locking in on what had eluded him. "The doctor in charge of her and her son's care, who told her that her baby died, had to have known the baby she left the hospital with wasn't hers."

"...then that doctor was in on it." Morgan felt pissed.

"Not just him." Hotch crossed his arms, his stomach tensing. "Any nurses in the maternity ward who knew which newborn had died had to be in on it. Even if only after the fact." He met Rossi's eye. "Maybe even the doctor who informed you and Carolyn that James had been the one that died."

"That son of a..." Rossi cursed, first in English then Italian. The plethora of swears revealing only a fraction of what he felt. That the doctor he and his wife had trusted all those years ago could've known about the switch, even have had a hand in it, infuriated him. It took a few minutes before he managed something other than a curse. "When I get my hands on that..."

"Rossi, we're going to find out who was responsible for helping the Wagner's switch the children. And anyone who was involved or knew about it." Hotch reassured the older agent.


	12. Recollections

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 12:** Recollections

 _His brown eyes noticed the girl looking around the park nervously. She wore what looked like a shawl wrapped around her left arm, and a faded yellow sundress with sleeves reaching her elbows. Her right arm had an ace bandage wrapped around her wrist._

 _The girl picked at the edges of the shawl._

 _"Hello." Spencer approached her as she paused beside one of the park's chess tables. "Do you want to play a game?"_

 _The girl flinched slightly as he stepped right beside her, their heights similar. Her brown eyes slowly met his, her fingers picking at the edges of her shawl even more. Remaining quiet, the girl absentmindedly unwound the shawl, revealing the yellow-discoloration of healing bruises._

 _His eyes widened and he asked if she'd fallen or something; the next moment reciting what he'd read about bruises, how they formed and their various stages of healing. This spiel coming forth in response to the nervousness he felt. Even though he was only eight, he understood something wasn't right._

 _The girl listened patiently, not interrupting until he was done. She did however rebind her arm with the shawl._

 _"How do you play?" She asked, indicating the chess table. The fact that he'd seen her arm didn't seem to faze her. She was oblivious to his curiosity._

 _"Oh, I'll teach you. It's easy." He replied, enthused. He still felt uneasy at the bruises he'd seen, but he focused instead on explaining the game to the girl. The two of them sat on either side of the chess table. "My name's Spencer. Spencer Reid, what's yours?"_

 _"...Adrienne Leigh Crawford." The girl replied, looking at the board and all the chess pieces. Enthused about making a new friend, Spencer started explaining the game and how each piece moved.-_

Spencer awoke, his eyes fluttering open, the dream lingering in his thoughts.

About a week and a half had passed since Western New York and finding out about Rossi's son James. While the rest of the BAU had looked into how James and Kevin had been switched, Spencer's injury had forced him to take a back seat.

Until he got released from the hospital, and an evaluation saying he was fit to return to work, he couldn't officially help. Though, technically none of them could officially work the investigation since the higher ups had given the child-switch kidnapping case to another team. Once the connection between Rossi and James was discovered by the Bureau, the BAU was deemed too close to things to effectively investigate.

Spencer sighed, adjusting the hospital bed using its remote. After almost pulling his stitches a couple days ago he was careful not to overexert himself. It had occurred after he heard that the director had assigned another team to investigate the switch.

Despite everything, he knew none of his team would stop investigating on their own. Rossi certainly wasn't - the older agent had finally taken the vacation time he'd been accumulating, using the opportunity to search for information on his own.

Spencer rubbed his eye, thinking not about his team but rather the dream he'd awoken from. Because of everything that had happened, he had kept the first dream he'd had about the girl from his team. It didn't have anything to do with what was going on after all.

That first dream reminded him about the nightmares he'd had during his first few years of joining the BAU. The ones where he'd been too late to prevent a child from being taken by an unsub. After they had investigated Riley Jenkins and found out the truth of that case, he'd assumed all those nightmares until then had been connected to what happened to Riley.

Now he was questioning that assumption. One of the nightmares _had_ been about a female child, rather than a boy.

"Alsie..." Spencer mumbled, his brow furrowed. While his first dream had sparked his suspicion, this second one confirmed it. They were both memories that he'd suppressed for some reason - perhaps from guilt at not helping her? He was certain now, however, that that girl had been Alsie.

The name Adrienne Leigh Crawford and its initials A.L.C - had been the origin of the nickname 'Alsie'. He had been the one to give her that nickname after she had expressed irritation at being called 'Adrienne' or 'Leigh'.

Spencer grimaced, considering how Alsie had given her name as Allison Schmidt when they'd met at the cafe. It was possible, considering the injuries she'd had when they met as children, that she had been removed from her family and adopted by another one.

Mulling it over, Spencer sighed and glanced at the room's clock. It would be a few hours until any of his team visited him, that was if they didn't get called in on a case.

 _'Should I call her?'_ He glanced at the phone beside his bed, thinking about Alsie. Though eleven days had passed since he got shot, and he'd been transferred to a local hospital eight days ago, he hadn't contacted Alsie.

He had wanted to, to ask about what he'd dreamed, but he hadn't wanted to explain her to Morgan and the others. If the situation with James hadn't happened, Spencer would've talked to Rossi about Alsie as the senior agent already knew about the cafe date. But considering things, he decided not to.

Instead Spencer had decided to wait until his team wasn't visiting him before contacting her.

Picking up the phone Spencer started dialing Alsie's cell phone number.

0

James Rossi leaned against the wall of his cell, humming. His dark eyes watched the hallway, following the guards as they made their rounds. He studied each of them carefully, almost obsessively.

 _'What is your move...'_ James mumbled, too low for anyone but himself to hear. After confessing and agreeing to plead guilty to all charges, he had bypassed the need for a jury trial. Instead accepting the max sentence for each rape and assault charge. He even accepted the thirty to life sentence for Julia's death despite not having murdered her.

Having a trial and a lawyer would likely have gotten him less time, but the look on David Rossi's face when James had refused both a lawyer and any thing less than the max sentence for each crime was worth it. Confusion, disbelief, suspicion and then guilt, and a bit of anger, once the older man realized James' motive.

He wanted the father he'd never known to feel guilt at not preventing things. For not realizing that James and the real Kevin Wagner Jr had been switched. Raping those women had proven a more effective means of getting back at the elder man than James had thought.

He decided not to tell anyone that the rapes had been an after thought, a way to leave DNA as a taunt as well as assure the attention of the BAU.

James resumed his humming, his thoughts less on David Rossi and more on the letter on his bed. It was from Somerfield's office. The same one he'd mailed the eyes he'd taken from each victim.

It had been sent to him under the name Kevin Wagner - the one thing James hadn't sabotaged was the BAU and his father keeping his real name secret. After all, he didn't know if or which of his fellow inmates had been put there by David Rossi. If they knew who James was - even though he hadn't been raised by Rossi - they would certainly seek revenge by attacking James.

Despite James trying to force David Rossi to shoot him as a method of hurting the agent, he wasn't suicidal.

James stopped humming, considering the letter Somerfield had sent. It was a congenial letter, though quite trite.

"Hey, hey!" One of the other prisoners across the hall called out. The guard wasn't expected back around for a few minutes.

James ignored it, still considering Somerfield's letter. It wasn't until whoever it was called out the name James Rossi that James listened. He tensed.

 _'Son of a...'_ He gritted his teeth, his eyes glaring at Somerfield's letter.

0

Alsie brushed back her hair, pushing the sienna strands behind her ears. Her burnt umber eyes stared into their reflection. Straying to her scar, then to the rest of the room reflected by the mirror.

The sound of her phone ringing pulled her attention. Briefly glancing at her scar, she pulled her hair from behind her ears, concealing it. After which she picked up her cell phone.

Her brow furrowed at the caller ID, which showed it came from a local hospital.

"Hello?" Alsie answered the call.

 _-"Um, hello, Alsie. It's Spencer." Spencer greeted after recognizing Alsie's voice. "I...um, just wanted to talk to you. Um..."-_

"...what happened? You're calling from the hospital." Alsie replied, one of her arms crossed over her chest while the other held the phone to her ear. "Were you shot?"

 _-"Actually, yes. Though I'm fine now. Just convalescing." Spencer replied, pausing as he considered what next to say. "Um. I may not be discharged for another week, and I thought...well, I wondered if you'd mind visiting me? There's something I wanted to talk to you about." He paused again, recalling the last conversation he'd had with Alsie. "Actually, there's two things I wanted to talk about."-_

"Um. Okay." Alsie answered, after only a brief hesitance. Something about the call and Spencer's tone felt uncanny. She narrowed her eyes, thinking. "...I've been thinking about when we first met."

 _-"..." Spencer blinked, brow furrowed. "You mean at the park...?"-_

"...when we were eight? Yeah. I..." Alsie replied, standing in her bedroom doorway. She rubbed her right eye, then lightly touched her scar. The feeling she had being proven right. "I didn't think you..."

 _-"I didn't actually remember at first, which is strange since I have an eidetic memory, but I guess I must have blocked it out from guilt or something after seeing those injuries you had and not doing anything about it. I did a similar thing when my father left, but that was from anger at him leaving me and my mom." Spencer replied, barely taking time to breathe during his spiel. He did briefly wonder at how comfortable he felt talking to Alsie and telling her things it took years for him to confide to his team. -_

"...oh." Alsie listened, her lips twitching briefly at the part were Spencer talked about his father leaving. The expression in her eyes turned frigid as she processed his words, though the next moment she shook it away. Her demeanor once more reserved but not uninviting. "So what did you want to talk about?"

 _-"Uh, well, actually that was one of the things I wanted to talk about. I...I wanted to apologize for not doing anything to help. I should've told someone about those bruises you had back then. I..." Spencer said, his tone mixed with regret and worry. Worry both that his apology wouldn't be accepted and that he'd find out that the abuse Alsie had suffered lasted longer because he didn't tell anyone back then.-_

"Oh, come on. We were children. There's nothing either of us could've been expected to do about it." Alsie replied, her mouth a mix between a smile and a frown. "Besides, I got out of that family not long after that."

 _-"Oh, that's good then. Um." Spencer furrowed his brow again, not quite relieved. "What about that scar you said you got by falling on glass? You didn't have it when we met as children. But it's clearly old enough to be from childhood."-_

Alsie didn't reply at first. Her expression livid as she recalled the memory. She controlled the anger with a deep breath. "...what else did you want to talk about?"

 _-Spencer made a sound as though to question Alsie changing the subject. However he stopped himself from actually voicing the question. "I'd prefer to talk in person. Though, I'd understand if you don't want to..."-_

Alsie heard the dejection in Spencer's voice, though he tried to mask it. "No, it's all right. I'll visit. It's...look, I don't want to lie to you, but I also don't want to talk about my scars. Anything else is fine."

 _-"Oh, that's fine. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories. I just felt there were so many years we missed out on being friends." Spencer's mouth twisted in thought. "...I went to that same chess table every day for a month after that."-_

"...um, how long are visiting hours? I think I'd rather talk in person too." Alsie asked, not commenting on either of Spencer's statements. Instead she slipped on a pair of heeled shoes and grabbed a light jacket.

After receiving the answer, she ended the call saying she would be on her way.


	13. Lies Uncovered

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 13:** Lies Uncovered

"Hello." Alsie's quiet voice reached Spencer's ears after the hospital door slid open. Her heels clicked on the floor as she approached.

"Hello." Spencer returned a smile. He searched her face, wondering how he could've forgotten it. Why his subconscious had blocked out having met her when a child. "Ah. You brought a mini chess set."

"Yeah, well we didn't finish that chess game when we met all those years ago...so I thought maybe we could now...or later." Alsie placed down the portable chess set she'd purchased on way to the hospital. Her eyes took in all the get-well gifts Spencer's team had brought over the week.

Books, gift baskets, puzzles, a wide range of goodies. Alsie took all of it in, her expression indiscernible.

"What is it?" Spencer studied Alsie, noticing her gaze lingering on the gifts.

Alsie cleared her throat and sat down, returning her gaze to Spencer. "It's nothing. I...I was just reminded of when I got appendicitis. I was five. I woke up in a room like this."

"Oh." Spencer replied and started reciting some facts about appendicitis that he'd read. His rambling brought on by nervousness, habit, and partial relief. He had feared for a moment, upon seeing Alsie's expression, that being in a hospital had triggered an unpleasant memory of abuse.

Alsie smiled at Spencer's rambling. "The only thing I need to know about appendicitis is that it hurt like hell."

"Yeah. I can imagine." Spencer paused, thinking about what to say. He wanted to ask Alsie about her childhood, about what she'd experienced. But he accepted Alsie's condition to not talk about it.

"So, you had something you wished to talk about?"

"Yeah, first, um..." Spencer hesitated, the question he was about to ask something that had occurred to him after speaking to Alsie on the phone. "When we met at the cafe, did you know who I was?"

"When you introduced yourself." Alsie replied after a moment. "I recognized the name and you seemed familiar."

"...hm." Spencer twisted his lips in thought, studying Alsie. "What about the last time we met at that cafe? What you asked..."

"About pretend dating? It's all right. I understand if you don't want to...it's reasonable, considering things that you wouldn't want to. And my suggestion that we..."

It was Spencer's turn to smile at Alsie's rambling. "It's fine. Actually, I...I think pretending to date isn't something I can do. Sorry." He continued before Alsie could reply. "But I'm not against real dating. I...if you're not against it, I thought we could go for dinner. Or there are various events and exhibits opening at the Smithsonian Institution next month..."

Alsie listened quietly as Spencer started talking about the various museums and galleries that made up the Smithsonian.

"All right." She replied, interrupting Spencer. "Once you're better, we can attempt a date. But...just fair warning, I've never had a relationship that ended well."

Spencer gave a wistful smile, thinking about Maeve, and then about Lila, JJ and the few other women he'd ever had a romantic interest in. Each had either ended badly or never really moved past friendship. "...you're not alone in that regard."

0

David Rossi studied the room around him. Shelves of books and medical supplies locked away, filing cabinets and a small writing table that seemed unused in recent weeks. He glanced at the daybed by the bay window, then at the corner nearest it. An IV pole stood there, showing more signs of use than the table or the shelves.

"Hello. David Rossi, was it?" A woman, with gray hair pulled in a bun that still showed evidence of its once auburn hue, stepped into the room. Her steps were slower than they used to be, though not at all unsure. "Crystal Richards. Dr. Richards' wife."

Rossi shook the woman's proffered hand.

"I came here to see Dr. Richards about a delivery he oversaw in '79 when he was working in obstetrics." Rossi said after refusing an offer for coffee or tea. He also refused to sit down.

"I'm sorry, my husband isn't well enough for visitors. The chemo's left him weak." Crystal smiled politely. "Perhaps another time..."

"No." Rossi replied, his eyes angry though he kept himself composed. "Pardon me, Mrs. Richards, but your husband lied to me about something very serious 36 years ago, and it's about time he told me the truth."

"My husband is very unwell. You can't expect me to just let you start bombarding him with questions." Crystal combed her eyes over Rossi, seeing him differently upon hearing the demanding tone. "Now, if that's all..."

"Mrs. Richards." Rossi interrupted, not making any sign of leaving. "I believed for 36 years that my son was dead. A few weeks ago I found out he was alive. And the one who told me and my wife that our son James died was your husband. I respectfully suggest you show me to your husband, or I will get a warrant and..."

Crystal Richards glared at Rossi, meeting his stubbornness with her own. "I want you out of my..."

"Crissy, it's all right." Dr. Alan Richards entered the room, pushing an IV pole along. His thin body seemed to be wasting away, though he managed to reach the chair closest to the table. Each step he took shaky. "I want to talk to agent Rossi."

"But..." Crystal started, falling silent and leaving the room when Alan Richards shook his head. All the while tsk-tsking, her shoes clicked on the halls' hardwood floor.

"Hello, David Rossi. It's been a while." Alan Richards said, his voice much weaker and more raspy than Rossi remembered.

"You know why I'm here." Rossi glared at the much older, much weaker man. Despite the man's frailty, he felt like attacking him. This man, who he had trusted 36 years ago, had lied to him. And kept silent about the lie for 36 years. "James."

Alan took in a breath, and met Rossi's gaze. But only for a second. "...I knew this day would come. I imagined it happening every day for 36 years."

"So you did lie. About James, to Carolyn and me." Rossi glowered at Alan. "Why? Did you sympathize with Amy Wagner or was it for money?"

"Neither. I never even talked to the other boy's mother. No..." Alan coughed a little, bringing a tissue to his mouth. "I did it because I thought...Christ." The old doctor shook his head, remembering. His expression morphed into one of indignation rather than guilt. "There was another doctor. He told me that..." Alan coughed again, this time needing a glass of water to curtail it. Rossi got him it, so the man could continue. Alan thanked him. "I figured out it was balderdash too late, but...he said...he said you...were violent." Alan took another sip of water and cleared his throat. "Were violent towards children."

"What?!" Rossi fumed, cursing a bit in Italian. Of all the explanations he'd prepared himself to hear, this was unexpected. "Someone told you that I was a child abuser? That I..."

Rossi let out a slew of swears in Italian and English, while pacing and trying to get his head around what he'd just heard.

"That wasn't all." Alan took another sip of water, though it didn't seem to do much help. "He said you were also a..." He coughed again, this fit lasting a while.

"What?" Rossi glowered, questioning the older man despite realizing what else Alan had been falsely told. "What did he say I was?"

"That you touched childre..."

"I have NEVER and would NEVER, do such a thing!" Rossi yelled, his thoughts and emotions whirling. This was worse and more infuriating than any other reason he considered for Dr. Richards lying about James. "Why would you even believe such a thing? We met many times throughout Carolyn's pregnancy, and talked a lot. Yet you believed..."

"I'm sorry. I realized later that it was all lies. But four years had passed by then, I couldn't..." Alan froze under the scowl Rossi flashed him.

"You realized four years after you falsified my son's death that you made a mistake, and yet you didn't man up and tell me the truth?!" Rossi breathed to calm himself, wanting nothing more than to hull the man sitting before him to the nearest FBI field office's interrogation room. "Do you know what James went through? Hm? Your lie helped deliver my son to a real pedophile and helped keep him there. In that household, where he suffered not just sexual, but physical abuse bad enough to bring him to the hospital multiple times each month."

"God. I'm sorry." Alan Richards replied meekly. "I thought I was helping..."

"Helping? Yeah, you helped steal a boy from a loving family and gave him to a monster." Rossi said, his tone less loud and angry, but still accusatory. "You found out you were lied to when James was four? Guess what, Kevin Wagner didn't start molesting James until he was five. If you had told the truth, James could've been returned to me and Carolyn before that bastard hurt him."

Alan stared up at Rossi, eyes red with tears. "I'm sorry, sorry. I..."

"The doctor who told you those lies about me, what's his name?"

"Tobias Connell." Alan whispered, not purposely but rather because his voice refused to reach it's normal volume.

"Connell? Dr. Connell?" Rossi repeated, remembering that last name. The doctor James had beat in the hospital nearly two weeks ago had been named Connell. "The same one in Niagara Falls?"

Alan shook his head. "No. Tobias Connell died nearly fifteen years ago. Though he did have a nephew attending medical school."

Rossi took note of that info, the next moment starting towards the door.

"Agent Rossi, you said you found James. Is he all right?"

Rossi flinched, hearing that question from Dr. Richards. He swallowed and considered leaving without answering.

"Rossi?"

"...he's currently in prison, on multiple rape charges." Rossi said, his hand on the doorknob. His back was to Alan Richards and he heard the man about to apologize again. "...I'm one of the ones who had to arrest him. Right after I found out who he was."

Rossi left before he had to hear Alan Richards' response.

0

 _"It's back to the Room for you." The man with the large white coat spoke as he grabbed his arm. The large hand felt like a vise on his bony wrist._

 _"Leggo, leggo. I'll do it. I'll do it." He screamed back, desperately trying to escape the older man's grip. That Room, with the bath boxes, terrified him._

 _"I don't think you will." The man replied, his low pitched voice cold. He continued to drag the boy to the Room. The boy shivered, his small frame being easily picked up by the man in the white coat. "You need to learn, when you start something you must finish."_

 _"Please. Please. Dr. Somerfield." He pleaded, futilely. The doctor forced him into the box with the water and shut the lid. He trembled in the dark, knowing that the monsters would come.-_

James opened his eyes, flailing his arms and legs or at least trying to. His memory was fuzzy, but he recalled a fellow inmate approaching him with a shiv. That inmate had called James a 'fed's son', and vowed to gut him.

James had struck quicker than that inmate, using a rag soaked in cleanser that another inmate had got him to blind the one who attacked him. The man hollered in pain once the abrasive chemical touched him, and James managed to take the shiv.

He had then stabbed the man. Once in the diaphragm and once in his left eye. Seeing the blood and hearing the screams, James had been lulled into trying to cut out that inmate's eyes. He had 'heard' Dr. Somerfield's voice telling him to do so. Just as the older man had instructed him numerous times at the institute. Mostly on birds and rodents.

The guards had stopped James before he started on the inmate's right eye. Afterwards they had brought him to solitary confinement, not caring about his pleads or explanations.

"Calm down. Calm down." He heard someone say as he struggled against the binds anchoring him to the bed. It took a few seconds to realize he was in the infirmary, strapped to the bed.

James blinked and closed his eyes, recalling nothing that had happened after being placed in the dark, solitary confinement cell. His arms were sore though, as well as his face. Before he could figure out what injuries he had, he felt a pin prick on his skin and he sunk back into unconsciousness.

0

Garcia hurried down the hospital hall, trying to make it before the end of visiting hours. She had planned to visit Spencer hours ago, but BAU work had taken priority.

Reaching Spencer's hospital room, she opened the door and entered.

"Hello, I...ah...oh." Her greeting faltered as she noticed Alsie. Though it was more surprise at seeing a convalescing Spencer conversing animatedly with someone she hadn't met before. "Um. Hello?"

"Oh! Garcia, hi! Come in, come in." Spencer's face lit up seeing Garcia. He beckoned her with a youthful enthusiasm. "Um, this is Allison Schmidt, we met last month. Alsie, this is Penelope Garcia."

"Nice to meet you." Garcia held out her hand in greeting, pleasantly overwhelmed by the vibrancy in Spencer's face. It was similar to the excitement he showed when reciting a Halloween fact or showing off a magic trick.

"Likewise." Alsie replied, shaking Garcia's hand lightly and after a very brief hesitance. It was of such brevity that neither Garcia nor Spencer registered the pause. "So do you work for the Bureau as well?"

"Uh, yes. Well I'm not an agent. I'm a tech analyst for the BAU." Garcia smiled as she spoke, her curiosity and interest piqued. She looked from Spencer to Alsie then back to Spencer, trying to figure out if she'd interrupted a mere friendly chat. "I...oh! Those are cute shoes you're wearing." Garcia said as she noticed the black and pink sequin heels Alsie wore.

"Thank you. Yours are nice too. Well, your whole outfit is..." Alsie returned the compliment, eyeing the bright colors of Garcia's skirt and blouse. "Dazzling. A dose of sunshine."

Garcia's smile widened at the unexpected compliment. Her evaluation of this stranger growing more positive by the second. "Thank you. Well, I try to be as bright and peppy as I can..."


	14. Explanations

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 14:** Explanations

Alsie sighed, on her way toward the elevators. Visiting hours were only for another forty-five minutes, and she had excused herself so Garcia could spend time with Spencer. She'd given having an early day the next morning as a reason to leave so suddenly after the bubbly woman got there.

She didn't mind Garcia - the woman was actually refreshing, and not at all the type of person Alsie would expect to work in the FBI, let alone the BAU. So optimistic. And friendly.

Alsie's heels clicked on the hospital floor as she approached closer to the elevators. Her brown eyes flitted over the corridor and the personnel doing their jobs. The sounds and atmosphere reminded her of three years ago when she'd been brought to this same hospital after an accident.

She pressed the button for the elevator, her right hand straying to her abdomen. The scars she'd received three years back still lingered beneath her blouse. After stepping into the elevator, Alsie closed her eyes and smiled. An ambiguous smile.

0

The sun barely visible on the horizon as it crept steadily higher, its vicinity an array of yellows, reds, and orange. It was a poignant sunrise, perfect like a still from a movie. Rossi barely noticed it. He hadn't even slept yet, his eyes staring at the front inside cover of the book James had had at the hospital. A copy of one of his own published works.

As much as he tried to fathom things, he couldn't get around the fact that he had signed the book. Rossi rubbed his forehead, his signature staring back at him. How, he asked himself for the millionth time, how could he have met James before and not known he was his son?

Rossi's eyes blurred as he read the inscription above his signature. The blurb he had wrote had even been addressed using the name James, rather than Kevin. That meant James not only approached him for a book signing, but had actually given his name as James at the time.

"How could I not have noticed?" Rossi mumbled, his gaze moving to a photo of Carolyn. It was one taken a few years after James' birth. His eyes watered staring at the photo, remembering her. Carolyn had died clinging to the hope that she'd be reunited with their son. She had passed never knowing James was alive. Nor what he'd done.

Rossi wondered which one of them was the luckier one. Him or Carolyn.

"...I promise I'll find any and every one responsible for hurting James." Rossi vowed to Carolyn, picking up her photo. He held it gently. "And for robbing us of the opportunity to raise our son. He would've been so different if we could have raised him..."

Rossi covered his mouth, swallowing back a sob. A few tears dripped onto the photo before he wiped his eyes. Despite finding out James was alive, Rossi felt like he was mourning his son anew. Mourning the man James could've been if he and Carolyn had been able to raise him.

He sighed, his cell phone ringing. He continued to look at Carolyn's photo for a few more moments. The sound of his phone was something he wished would go away. It took a few seconds for his surfeited brain to remember he was on vacation, and that none of his team would call him now unless it was urgent.

He answered his phone just before it's last ring.

"Hello? Yes, this is David Rossi." Rossi said upon hearing an unfamiliar voice on the other end. He paused, becoming suddenly alert when the speaker introduced herself and that she was calling on behalf of the prison James was at. "What is it? What happened?"

Rossi paled, nearly dropping the photo of Carolyn as he listened.

"What?! How did the inmates find out? Who told them? What about James? Is he injured?" Rossi asked, half of his questions coming out without thinking. He was already standing and getting ready to leave before most of them were answered. He froze as he heard James had been sedated and placed in the prison's psych ward. "Why was he put there? What...I'm on my way."

Rossi hung up, cursing even as he headed out.

0

Clack!

Dr. Morland Somerfield hung up the phone with a flourish, his old age, while visible in his looks, wasn't apparent in his abilities. He still had the same stamina as he did twenty years ago, though his outlook was tempered now by experience.

Connell had failed. Not only to prevent James from coming in contact with the BAU, but also to eliminate James. Worse, Connell had revealed James' name to the prison inmates in his attempt to kill the man. Somerfield couldn't think of a more foolish thing Connell could've done.

"Now the BAU will figure out someone knows James identity aside from them." Somerfield had growled at Connell. "And that this someone knew who James was before they did!"

Somerfield felt like wringing Connell's neck. The man, though intelligent enough to become a medical doctor, hadn't the same smarts as Tobias Connell. Perhaps because the two were uncle and nephew rather than father and son.

Tobias Connell had managed 36 years ago to convince a respected doctor that an FBI agent was a child abuser. And had been convincing enough to trick that doctor into switching that agent's son with a stillborn.

His nephew, Kenneth Connell, was an utter disappointment compared to that.

Somerfield wondered whether it'd been folly to bring in Kenneth Connell as Tobias Connell's replacement. Perhaps he should've learned from experience that trusting a Connell was itself folly.

Somerfield gazed out his home office's window, his cold eyes considering his options.

0

"I came as soon as I heard." Hotch hurried to Rossi, the two of them waiting for those in charge of the prison, and specifically the cell block James had been assigned to, to arrive. "Has anyone said what happened?"

"...apparently James had some sort of psychotic break." Rossi said, repeating what the prison doctor had told him when she'd called. "He's being kept restrained and sedated."

Hotch grimaced, and offered a sympathetic reply. He paused remembering what he'd been told over the phone. "What about the fight James was in? And his identity being found out by the other inmates?"

Before Rossi could respond two men, one the warden of the prison and the other head of James' cell block, entered the room.

"Welcome, Agent Rossi, Agent Hotchner." The warden greeted the two agents, then bid them to sit.

"I prefer to stand." Rossi said, refusing the offer. "And I'd prefer to know who leaked my son's identity to the other inmates."

"Dave..." Hotch tried to stem the older man's anger, the amount of venom in Rossi's tone alarming. He seemed ready to accuse the two officers of leaking the information.

"It seems that information may have come from another inmate." The warden replied, taking the accusatory tone of Rossi's with a grain of salt. "We don't know how he may have gotten that intel, but he did have a couple visitors this past week. One of which was his lawyer."

"You think it was one of them?" Hotch asked, his gut roiling. The warden nodded, further saying that he suspected the lawyer. Not that they could question them due to attorney-client privilege.

"What about James? Was he injured by the other inmates?" Rossi asked after stifling the peak of his anger. Ever since hearing what Alan Richards had to say, he found himself questioning his trust in anyone outside the BAU.

The warden handed Rossi a folder. "That's the incident report. James wasn't injured by the inmate that attacked him."

"It says he brutalized the inmate's eye with a shiv. The guards restrained James and threw him in solitary confinement..." Rossi read the file, returning his eyes to the warden. "Why? If James was defending himself..."

"None of the other guards were told James was your son. So the guards who came across the attack only saw one inmate stabbing another. And they followed protocol."

"It wasn't until I came on duty and questioned the other guards about James' not being in his cell that anyone questioned the incident." The head guard continued. "I went to remove him from solitary after discovering what happened."

"And? What happened then?" Hotch asked, noting Rossi returning to the incident report and reading the rest of it.

"It's in the report. Ah..." The guard started to reply, only to be interrupted by Rossi's curse as the agent finished reading the file.

"Rossi?" Hotch turned to his colleague, concerned.

"You found him bloody and clawing at his own eyes?" Rossi repeated what he'd just read. His anger and disbelief growing: when they had arrested James none of them had profiled him as being at risk for a psychotic break.

"Where's James being held now? Take us to him." Hotch demanded immediately after seeing the look on Rossi's face. It was one he'd probably mirror if he was in Rossi's position.

"All right. It's this way." The warden replied, bidding the two agents to follow.

It didn't take long to reach the infirmary of the psych ward of the prison. The warden introduced the agents to the doctor in charge of James.

"Agents, this is Dr. Leah Clemens. She's the psychiatrist here."

Dr. Clemens shook Rossi and Hotch's hands, flashing an apologetic smile to Rossi. She then led them to James' bed.

Rossi froze, seeing his son in restraints with a bandaged wrist and vicious scratches around his eyes. One of James eyes showed signs of having been bandaged.

"Dave, I..." Hotch started, the sight of James and Rossi's reaction affected him the same as if it'd been his son.

Rossi shook his head and said he was fine. He approached the bed, his fatherly affection for James for the first time free from the guilt at what James had done. He hadn't realized how reluctant he'd been to accept this James as his son James, until this moment. This moment when he saw the man not as an unsub, but as his son lying unconscious and injured.

"Could you give us a moment." Rossi heard Hotch whisper to Dr. Clemens, though he hardly registered it. Or the door shutting as Clemens complied.

Rossi cleared his throat and stared down at his son, realizing at that moment that Hotch too had left the room. Just to give Rossi some time alone with James. Rossi's eyes grew moist, James lying so still from sedation reminded him of when Carolyn died. He realized then, that though James took after him in eye and hair color, his son had Carolyn's chin and nose.

"I'm sorry." Rossi whispered, not trusting himself to speak louder without sobbing. "I'm sorry for never realizing you were alive, and for trusting Dr. Richards. I should've known, as your father, that you were alive. I..."

Rossi wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, trying not to lose what was left of his composure. He took a few steadying breaths as he heard the door opening.

"Rossi, Dr. Clemens has something to tell us. James said some things before being fully sedated." Hotch said, reluctant to interrupt the older man, but what he heard from Clemens was enough to override his reluctance.

"What is it, Hotch?" Rossi asked, making sure he was composed before following the man out of the room.

"Dr. Clemens should tell you." Hotch replied.

Rossi's brow rose then furrowed as he turned from Hotch to Clemens. He didn't know if he could trust another doctor in regards to his son. "What...?"

"Something your son mumbled while being sedated was strange." Leah Clemens began, pushing her flaxen hair behind her shoulders. "He said something about not wanting to be placed in the box, and that the monsters would get him. Also, the guard that had placed him in solitary said he shouted about going blind not long after being placed in solitary."

Rossi met Hotch's eyes, their attentions piqued by this information. They hadn't been able to garner why James had been obsessed with his victims' eyes. Or why such an obsession had developed.

"How long after being put into solitary did James start having a reaction to it?"

Clemens paused before replying, not from hesitance but from her own repugnance at what the guard had said. This was one time she hated working in a prison. "Almost immediately. He shouted and begged according to the guard that placed him in there. The guard just laughed."

"What?" Rossi glared at Clemens despite her not being the one at fault. He wanted nothing more than to find that guard and punch him.

"Rossi, there's more to it." Hotch interrupted, prompting Clemens to continue before being sidetracked by questions.

"Yeah, um..." Clemens considered her words carefully. "I can't give you names or identifying information, but what James mumbled reminded me of a patient I had years ago. Before I started working here." Clemens took a breath. "This patient described a room with a box partially filled with lukewarm water. And that she saw demons when inside it."

"Demons?" Rossi narrowed his eyes, considering Clemens.

"They were hallucinations, obviously. But my point is, this patient had been a subject in an experiment on sensory deprivation many years before we met." Clemens continued, watching as the two agents' faces filled with alarm. "And I think James may have been subjected to similar experiments."

"Son of a..." Rossi swore, his anger renewed as he considered James. What he had imagined James had gone through in the Wagner household seemed insignificant to what Clemens implied.

"I also think James may have been very young during the experiments. The way he spoke and his tone of voice was like a child's. Maybe a preteen. He called out 'mommy' once or twice, pleading."

Rossi's jaw grew taut; the hatred he felt for Amy Vaughn, having been tempered by empathizing with how it felt to lose a child, returned in full force. He had actually started feeling sorry for the woman who'd taken James; Understanding the extremes grief could take a parent to well enough.

Now he wasn't sure if Amy Vaughn had deserved empathy. If she had allowed James to be used in experiments...

"Dave..." Hotch followed Rossi as the latter left Clemens, stalking toward the prison exit. They went only a few feet before Rossi turned back to Hotch.

"You call the director and tell him that we're taking over the investigation into James' kidnapping. I don't care about protocol or whatnot. Too many have lied concerning James so far, I can't leave it to another team to find out the truth. I can't."

0

 ** _A/N: End chapter_**

 _Thanks for all the reviews so far. I've been experiencing writer's block for a few days, but I already have up to chapter 17 of this story written so there won't be much delay in posting chapters. (I plan on posting a chapter per week at least.) The reason I haven't posted all the chapters as I wrote them is that's what I've done in the past with my other stories, but I usually ended up having writer's block and thus not finishing them. With this story, writing so many chapters ahead and updating once and sometimes twice a week, has actually made writing less stressful when I experience writer's block. (I've rewritten chapter 16 about five times over the past two weeks.)_

 _Anyway, what do you think about the story so far? What about Alsie? And James? (Oh, it's so tempting to hint at what's going to happen in the story in these author notes...)_

 _Also, I plan to at some point, re-check each chapter and fix any errors. (Particularily the one where Spencer was transferred to a Virginia hospital rather than a D.C one (Thanks ahowell1993 for pointing that out.))_


	15. Spencer's Date Pt 1

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 15:** Spencer's Date Part 1

 _August, 1995:_

 _"Hey! Wait up!" A small child in a pink skirt-short and pastel striped short sleeved shirt ran after a slightly taller child. She struggled to keep up, climbing over the fallen branches and protruding roots on the forest floor. "Addie!"_

 _The taller child glanced back at the younger girl. "Do you wanna see it or not?"_

 _The smaller child nodded, running as fast as she could. When she reached the tree where the taller child waited, she stopped to catch her breath._

 _The older child made a face._

 _"What?" The younger child asked, but received no answer. Instead the taller child dug into her own pants pocket and took out an inhaler. She tossed it to the younger child. "Oh!"_

 _"You should remember to bring that on your own." The older girl glowered and picked up a stick from a pile of leaves and twigs. It was almost as long as her forearm. She poked at the ground with it while the younger girl used the inhaler._

 _The forest was silent around them for a few minutes. Neither girl said anything, but simply listened. The older girl continued to poke at the ground, particular the spots covered with leaves or brush._

 _"..." The stick poked something soft, catching both girls' attention. It was partially covered by decaying leaves._

 _"What is it?" The younger girl knelt down, discarding her inhaler in her curiosity. She scrunched up her nose, catching the scent emanating from the pile. "It smells!"_

 _"That's the smell of decomposition." The older girl said, bending down to check what she'd found rather than kneeling. She used the stick to push off the leaves. "Particularly of blood and flesh."_

 _The younger girl's eyes widened, but didn't lose curiosity, at the sight of the dead cat beneath the leaves._

 _"Is that the Barker's cat, Jerry?" The younger girl asked, picking up her own stick to poke the corpse._

 _"It's quite decomposed, and without a collar, but I believe so. Its tail has the same stripes and white splotch as Jerry." The older girl said, and turned over the feline carcass with her stick._

 _"When did you find it?" The younger girl poked the belly of the poor creature._

 _"Three days ago." The older girl replied, her lips twitching. "...this is boring. The well's over there."_

 _The older girl stood up and tossed the stick away. She barely waited for the younger one to do the same before heading northeast._

 _"Hey! Wait up! Hey! Addie!" The younger girl whined, following after the older girl._

0

2015:

"One medium size, dark roast coffee with whole milk, and one medium size, regular roast coffee with milk and four teaspoons sugar." Spencer ordered, glancing over the coffee shop's display case of baked goods. He thought about ordering a muffin or doughnut, but decided against it.

After paying he made his way with the coffees to the small table Alsie had picked out. He handed Alsie's hers with a small smile.

"Thank you." She replied, taking the cup. Spencer sat down across from her, while giving a polite response back. He watched while Alsie took a sip of her dark roast coffee.

"How can you drink that without sugar?" Spencer asked, while he drank some of his own coffee. Alsie simply gave him a look, and placed down her cup.

"...it's not that unusual. I prefer unsweetened coffee." Alsie took another sip of coffee, wondering what Spencer would think if she had him order her the double shot espresso she usually ordered on the weekends. "So, you'll be going back to work soon?"

"Yeah. Next Monday will officially be the end of my medical leave." Spencer thought about his team and work. A number of weeks had passed while he recuperated from the gunshot he sustained in western New York. Throughout his recuperation, though, he'd kept apprised of and tried helping out with the case of Rossi's son James.

"How about unofficially?" Alsie replied, smiling. She took a deep gulp of coffee while watching Spencer consider his answer. "You were speaking to your team just the other day about a case."

"...um, well, there's this ongoing case the BAU is investigating. One that hasn't required much travel, but mostly research and questioning." Spencer placed down his coffee cup, not wishing to elaborate.

The two of them were silent for a while.

"...I only brought it up because we were supposed to go to the Smithsonian that day." Alsie grinned, resting her chin on her propped up hand. Throughout the time Spencer spent recovering outside the hospital, he had planned yet broke off around three dates with Alsie. Each for different reasons.

"I'm sorry." Spencer bit his inner cheek, recalling each date he'd canceled.

The first had been three nights after he'd been discharged from the hospital. He had planned a dinner date for him and Alsie, but had canceled it in favor of the party Garcia had planned for his release from the hospital. Considering everything that'd been happening, especially with Rossi, that party was a much needed diversion.

The second date he planned and then canceled was for another dinner. Only he had had a dream about Maeve and couldn't bring himself to leave his apartment that day. He had stood home, clutching the book Maeve had given him.

The third time was four days ago, and he and Alsie had actually been on their way to the Smithsonian. However, that same day his team had gotten a lead on who leaked James' identity to the prison inmates. Only that lead led to two dead bodies. One which was Kenneth Connell, whose uncle had been responsible for James being switched.

"I promise today will be different. No interruptions." Spencer added, seeing Alsie's dubious expression, that he planned on keeping his phone turned off.

"All right. I'll keep mine off too." Alsie turned off her cell phone as she spoke, and slipped it into her pocket. It didn't take long for Spencer to do likewise.

"...so, Shelly gave you tickets to a movie?" Spencer asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable at turning off his cell. He was still on medical leave so he didn't need to worry about being called in, but he worried about something happening.

"Two of them, yes. And I think she's gonna stake-out the lobby to see if I use them." Alsie laughed and finished the last of her coffee. "She doesn't yet believe we're dating. Of course, considering we haven't had an uninterrupted date yet..."

Spencer was about to reply when he noticed someone entering the cafe. "...it seems Shelly isn't waiting until the theater to spy on us."

Alsie followed Spencer's gaze, spotting Shelly at first attempting to approach her before hesitating. Shelly's shocked, embarrassed expression revealed all. She had obviously thought Alsie had been lying about the date and had come, expecting Alsie to be either alone or not at the cafe.

"..." Alsie waved at Shelly, forcing the woman to realize she'd been seen. The two of them watched as Shelly waved back and then ducked outside. Alsie crocked an eyebrow considering her friend.

"...does Shelly not trust you?" Spencer's curiosity got the better of him.

"No, it's not that. I just haven't been on a date that Shelly hadn't set up for me in nearly three years." Alsie shrugged, turning back to Spencer. "Though, technically, she did set the two of us up on that first cafe date."

Spencer simply gave a demure smile, finishing his coffee. The two of them chatted a while longer before deciding to leave the cafe. Once outside, Alsie glanced around, obviously looking to see if Shelly was still nearby.

"I think...oh, yeah. There's her car." Alsie pointed out Shelly's car parked two blocks north. She paused, twisting her mouth in silent contemplation. After a moment she nudged Spencer in the opposite direction.

"Um, the movie theater is that way." Spencer protested, slightly confused.

"Yeah, well, I don't feel like being spied on while on a date." Alsie replied, grabbing Spencer's arm so he'd follow.

"All right. Understandable." Spencer replied, making a face at Alsie holding onto his arm. Just when it started feeling uncomfortable, Alsie let go. "But what are we going to do if we're not going to see a movie? It's a bit early for lunch, let alone dinner."

Alsie shrugged, still walking away from Shelly's car. She rubbed her forehead, the beginning pangs of a migraine starting up.

"Ah, how about that shop over there?" Spencer spoke and pointed at a vitamin and supplement shop across the street. "Certain combinations of vitamin and mineral supplements can help with migraines, and it's likely that shop will have them."

"All right." Alsie said, reaching the crosswalk. Spencer's brow furrowed, and he wondered for a moment how he knew Alsie was getting a migraine just from her rubbing her forehead. Though, considering what Alsie had told him before about her headaches and prescription, it wasn't that unusual to be suspicious of her having one now.

"...if you're getting a migraine, though, maybe you should go home to rest." Spencer mumbled as he and Alsie entered the shop. Alsie however simply asked him what supplements to get, and after he answered, she headed down one of the aisles.

It took less than ten seconds for Alsie to return with the supplements, and place them at the counter to purchase. Spencer crocked an eyebrow, intrigued at how quick Alsie had been picking out what to buy. He had gone shopping with Garcia and with JJ before, and neither had been that fast. On the contrary, both had been insistent on finding the best deals and products.

Though, he conceded, neither had been shopping for medicine or such at the time. It still seemed strange however.

He and Alsie were already outside when he considered that Alsie's headache had driven her to just buy the supplements she saw, rather than shop around.

"Um, Alsie...if you're not feeling w..."

"I'm fine." Alsie looked up at Spencer, standing just five inches from him. The close proximity made the difference in their height that more noticeable. Despite her heels, Alsie barely reached the average height for a woman.

"I've been meaning to ask, but are you really in your thirties?" Spencer asked, his curiosity overcoming his knowledge of the adage to not ask a woman her age. He immediately regretted doing so when Alsie glared at him. "Sorry. I...you just barely look twenty, let alone thirty-three."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Alsie replied after a pause, flashing a small, bemused smile. The next moment telling Spencer her birth-date.

Spencer's eyes widened, looking her over. "You're a week older than me? Seriously?"

Alsie gave a bemused glance at Spencer, then chuckled. "I guess I am." Her brown eyes met Spencer's. "Let's get away from the topic of age, and find something to do." She added a quip about Spencer not knowing to not ask a woman's age despite being a genius.

"I know that," Spencer protested. "I just don't get why a woman's age should be such a big deal that she has to hide it."

Alsie simply smiled.

The two of them walked in silence for a while, gazing at storefronts and wondering where to go. Spencer bit his inner cheek, wondering what would be a good place to take Alsie now that the movie theater option was null. The Smithsonian was also about forty minutes away by public transit, and in the same direction as the movie theater.

"Oh." His soft brown eyes alighted on a bookstore a few storefronts down. The sign outside it indicated a moving sale, 30 to 70 percent off. "That bo..."

"Let's check out the bookstore." Alsie said, interrupting Spencer at the exact moment he too was about to mention the book store. He gave Alsie a curious, bemused glance before following her to the store.


	16. Spencer's Date Pt 2

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 16:** Spencer's Date Part 2

Spencer browsed through the store's selection of books, many of which were modern novels or reprints of classic texts. He searched through the aisles, taking his time and pulling out some of the titles that seemed interesting.

Alsie at first followed close behind him, but then paused. Her eyes lingered over a section of books while Spencer headed further down the aisle. She fingered the spine of one of the books.

x

- _"Hey, I got this for you." She handed over the wrapped book, smiling. Her eyes searched the face of the person before her as he opened it. "Birthday present."_

 _"Yeah, like that's any..." The man paused, opening the papers that had been folded and placed just inside the book cover. His eyebrows scrunched up as he read the papers. He looked up at her after he was done, his expression indecipherable._ -

x

"...Alsie?" Spencer repeated her name, the next moment touching her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine." Alsie replied, shaking away the memory. She turned back to Spencer, her lips revealing a small smile. But one that didn't reach her eyes. "Did you find any good books?"

"A few. Though I'm still debating whether to buy them." Spencer replied, revealing a stack of five books. His gaze lingered on Alsie, wondering if he should call attention to her micro-expressions and body language. Deciding not to, he instead switched to the book whose binding Alsie had been lingering over. "Oh! That's one of Rossi's books. You're a fan of his? We both work in the BAU, I could get a signed copy for you if you wanted."

"No, it's okay." Alsie smiled and shook her head. "I'm not really into the true crime genre."

"Really?" Spencer made a face, considering Alsie's reply. "Because you just spent fourteen minutes and seventeen seconds just standing in this section. In the same spot, actually, that..."

Alsie touched her index finger to Spencer's lip, the unexpectedness of it quieting him more than the meaning of the gesture. They looked into each others eyes for a few moments. "I, um...knew someone who was a true crime fan. I actually bought him that book before as a birthday gift. I..."

Alsie chewed on her lips, and averted her gaze. Though not before Spencer noticed the glossy sheen of unshed tears.

"I, I'm sorry. I..." Spencer stammered and cleared his throat, not knowing what to say. His mind scoured through the possibilities of what had happened to cause this reaction in Alsie. Whatever the specifics, it was clear she had lost someone. "What happened to him?"

Alsie, hearing the anxiety in Spencer's voice, flashed a small, reassuring smile. "He didn't die. He...he left me. I, um..." She inhaled deeply to steady herself, but kept her face averted downward. So Spencer only saw the top of her head. "I was almost twenty-two weeks along when he left..."

Spencer drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening. "You have a child? I...where...?"

His breath caught and he almost dropped the books he held when Alsie shook her head.

"Thirty-second week. There were complications during the delivery. I...she didn't..." Alsie covered her mouth, unable to say more.

"I'm sorry. I didn't..." Spencer felt unsure what to say, and felt strange at how affected he was by Alsie's revelation.

Though they had met as children that one time and then a few times as adults, they hadn't spent much time together. Despite that, Spencer felt the same amount of concern for Alsie as he did his team. That sense of connection had been why he'd decided to try dating Alsie.

"If there's anything I can do, I..." Spencer mumbled, feeling a mix of guilt for causing Alsie to remember something painful, as well as worry. He froze as Alsie rested her face against his chest, and he felt the wetness of her tears falling on his shirt. He stuttered for a moment, lost at how to respond, before placing an arm around her. "Alsie, I..."

"She would've been three today..."

Hearing that, especially the distraught tone, Spencer dropped the books he held onto the book shelf and wrapped his other arm around Alsie. He couldn't explain why, but he felt intensely protective of her.

The two of them remained like that for a handful of minutes. The distant sound of the book store's entrance door opening interrupting the quiet.

"Sorry." Alsie mumbled as she pulled away and dried her eyes. "...I got your shirt wet..."

"It's fine." Spencer gave a small smile, and let his arms fall back to his sides. Though it was uncomfortable, having a tear-dampened shirt, he was more concerned with Alsie. "...Are you all right?"

"...As can be expected, I guess." Alsie glanced up at Spencer's face, before averting her eyes to the books he'd placed on the shelf. She smiled as she read off the titles that Spencer had picked: each was either a science or math book, or in another language. "Interesting choices..."

"Oh. Um...Yeah." Spencer studied Alsie as she picked up each book and skimmed through them. He chewed on his inside cheek, his brain lingering over whether Alsie was all right or not. Or as she had put it: as well as can be expected. "Um, like I said I don't know if I'm going to buy all five of them. I...um, I'm actually don't have any empty space on my bookshelves at home. So I should probably buy another bookshelf first."

"Why not build one?" Alsie replied nonchalantly, still leafing through Spencer's selections. The one she currently held was in French.

"Build one?" Spencer gave a nervous laugh, as he took back the books Alsie had finished leafing through. "Uh, well, I...um..."

"...um?" Alsie glanced back up at Spencer, her eyes still a bit red from crying. "Not good with your hands?"

"Uh, well the percentage of times I tried building something and didn't end up accidentally injuring a finger or toe is pretty low." Spencer replied and took back the last book from Alsie. He noted that she had once more averted her eyes away.

"Uh, I...all right." Alsie pulled in her lip nervously, her cheeks slightly tinged red. "I am so glad you didn't take what I said in any other way than you did."

Spencer furrowed his brow, confused. "What other way was there to take it?"

Alsie gazed up again at Spencer, her umber brown eyes surveying his face and confusion. "Um, well there...ahh, never mind."

She pursed her lips, attempting to think of another topic. Though she instead started wondering at Spencer's obliviousness to the possible risque meaning of 'being good with one's hands.'

"Are you a virgin?" Alsie blurted out the question before she could stop herself.

"Wha...I...ah...uhm..." Spencer sputtered in response to the unexpected question. His own cheeks growing a bit pink, especially when the first response his brain formulated were facts dealing with virginity and such.

"I'm sorry, that's a completely inappropriate question. I...sorry, I..." Alsie covered her face, her effusive apologizing distracted Spencer enough to stop himself from blurting out facts about virginity and such that he'd read.

Instead Spencer started reciting facts about book stores and books, as well as going into detail about the books he had read that week. Alsie listened quietly, a small smile on her lips.

"So, are you two going to converse like a book club or are you going to actually participate in a dating activity?" Shelly called out from the end of the aisle, having just found the two when Spencer had started to talk about books.

"Shel?! What are you doing here?" Alsie turned around, her eyes widened at the sight of her friend. Spencer too was surprised, Shelly's arrival had been abrupt enough and he had been focused on Alsie enough, that he hadn't time to register seeing Shelly before she had spoke.

"Come on. You know I was waiting for you to head to the movie theater." Shelly replied, observing Spencer closely. Her eyes widened as she recognized him. "You're the guy with that roman numeral number..." Shelly smirked, looking Spencer over. "Well it's nice to see one of my set up dates succeeded."

"Um, hello." Spencer greeted Shelly. He suddenly felt a tad uncomfortable, considering he had flirted with Shelly years ago, albeit a bit ineptly. It had been her he'd given his telephone number to, after all. Though, Shelly was also the one who'd set up his cafe meeting with Alsie. "It's been a while."

"Yeah. Five, six years." Shelly smiled, holding out her hand in greeting.

"Um, I don't really shake hands. The average number of germs transmitted through shaking hands..."

"Ok, ok." Shelly interrupted Spencer, and dropped her hand. She glanced at Alsie, who seemed slightly irritated. However, the latter woman didn't respond but rather simply rubbed her right temple.

"Did you follow us?" Spencer asked, while noting Alsie's silence.

"No. But I figured Allie would be here. I mean she picked her current apartment because it's above a book store. So first place to check when looking for her is one with books." Shelly grinned, stepping closer to Spencer. That movement however caused Alsie to place herself between Shelly and Spencer.

Alsie glowered at Shelly. Her burnt umber eyes, hidden from Spencer by their height difference and that she faced more toward Shelly, showed nothing but harshness. Her stare seemed to be able to pierce through her friend.

"Uh, um." Noticing the sudden anger, Shelly stepped back. Her own softer eyes widened slightly as she watched Alsie's glare turn cold. Before she could say anything Alsie excused herself and headed toward the restroom.

Spencer remained silent during the bizarre showdown between the two women. He realized something was up the moment Alsie blocked Shelly's approach, and had noted the drastic change in Alsie's body language. He didn't fully understand why, however.

"Um..." He glanced toward where Alsie had gone, his view obscured by the shelves. His eyes narrowed in thought, he considered the possibilities.

"...I'm sorry about ruining things, I..." Shelly seemed nervous, and wanting to follow Alsie. She also seemed to want to talk to Spencer. "I thought she'd realize I was joking, I didn't think it would be one of the times when..." Shelly suddenly halted her sentence, and instead studied Spencer quietly for a few seconds. She seemed unsure.

"It might not be my business, but Alsie..." Spencer chewed on his inner cheek, trying not to over-analyze things - especially the feeling in his gut. A sudden emotional change could signify many things.

"Are you serious? I mean are you serious about dating Allie?" Shelly asked, not moving her eyes from Spencer's face. After Spencer replied in the affirmative, Shelly gave a sad smile and continued. "There's something you should know...Allie, she...well..."

Shelly faltered, glancing toward the restroom area.

"...you should check on her." Spencer mumbled, reading Shelly's body language easily.

"Yeah." Shelly agreed and started toward where Alsie had gone. She paused, glancing back at Spencer. "Do you know about her childhood? I only know a little of it, but...I imagine developing another personality to forget would be reasonable, especially if that was the only way you could."

Before Spencer could digest and reply to that tidbit of information, Shelly had darted toward the restroom to check in on Alsie. Thus leaving Spencer alone in the aisle. He chewed on his cheek, thinking.

0

Later that night:

Spencer studied his book shelf, the books he'd purchased in his arms. He had managed to fit three of the books on the shelves, but there wasn't any room for the other two. He continued to stare at the book shelf as though searching for a way to fit the last of the books, however, his focus wasn't actually on the shelf.

His brow furrowed as he thought about what Shelly had told him. Both what she had said and what she had text to him afterwards. His fingers tapped the spine of one of the books he held while he thought.

Being the sole person in his apartment, Spencer remained oblivious to how strange it was for him to stand, hardly moving in front of his bookshelf.

 _'Alsie...'_ Spencer grimaced as he focused on his memory of meeting Alsie the first time. They had been children, he had noticed her bruises and realized something wasn't right.

Yet he had remained quiet about it. Worse, he had blocked out meeting Alsie in that park.

Though, as he thought about why he would've blocked it out, he recalled that his parents had fought a lot in the weeks after he met Alsie. That may have been the reason behind his blocking the memory.

Spencer breathed in deeply and placed down the two books on the coffee table.

 _'I could've helped her back then.'_ Spencer slumped onto his sofa. He closed his eyes, frowning. After Shelly had left to check on Alsie and hadn't come back, he had decided to call her. If what Shelly told him was true, and that Alsie did have a form of dissociative personality disorder, he wanted to help.

Shelly had, however, called and left him a voicemail saying she was taking Alsie home. She'd further stated it'd be best for him to wait a few days before calling Alsie.

Spencer sighed and sat in silence. His eyes still closed while he thought.


	17. My Only Sunshine Pt 1

A/N: I've decided to change some of the earlier chapter titles. Also I edited ch16 a little to make the glimpse of Alsie's memory easier to differentiate from the other paragraphs.

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 17:** My Only Sunshine Pt1

Pastel walls and a plush carpet, with toddler toys strewn about - alphabet blocks, stuffed bears and a large plush dinosaur snug against the dresser. The room was quiet and cozy. With a soft glowing night-light and curtains over the shut windows, the cloth featuring a toy car pattern. A perfectly normal child's room.

"There, there." A woman cooed, patting the top of the sleeping two year old's head.

The sleeping wonder was dressed in pajamas with tiny images of baseballs and mitts and bats. His hair was a pale brown, his cheeks soft and light.

The woman cooed again. Her eyes were soft, as she beheld the peaceful toddler's face. Her own wore a mix of love, sadness, and relief. Her terracotta hued curls tickled the young boy's cheeks as she leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Mommy's found you."

The sound of the bedroom door opening, and the terrified gasp that accompanied it caused the woman to spin around. Her soft eyes quickly filled with indignation at sight of the person who had entered.

It was another woman, wearing a faux silk night gown.

"What are you doing in my son's room?" The new woman demanded, looking from the stranger to the sleeping toddler then back. Her eyes terrified as they took in the stranger's disheveled appearance. The first woman wore an oversized knitted sweater and gruff jeans. As well as scuffed up sneakers with velco straps instead of laces.

"He's not yours." The first woman growled, and glared at the woman in the night gown. The latter's eyes widened after recognizing the voice.

"M...Ms. Kaurich, I...you're not supposed to be here. Please, please move away from Ben. He's not your son." The boy's mother took a few steps closer, her eyes continuously darting at the sleeping toddler. Her breath caught and her stomach twisted when she noticed the other woman held a gun.

"Don't lie! He is my son. He is!" Ms. Kaurich's hand holding the gun twitched as she spoke, the loudness of her voice stirring the toddler.

It also stirred the other occupant of the house whose footsteps were soon heard hurrying to the nursery.

"What is it? Nicole? Is Benny all right..." He froze after entering the room and seeing the other woman. He was about to yell that the woman needed to leave before he called the police, when the disheveled woman raised the gun.

She pointed it at the two of them. The next second pulling the trigger.

0

"I don't care what they're offering, I'm not doing an interview. You tell them to back off and find something else to write about." Rossi seethed into his phone before hanging up, his expression livid. He took in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

"...Is this a bad time?" JJ asked, having entered Rossi's office through its opened door just moments before he hung up. Her concerned eyes studied the senior agent.

"It's all over the news." Rossi said, gesturing to the magazines on his desk. Their cover stories were all about James, and how he was switched at birth, as well as his being responsible for numerous rapes. "Every news show and magazine has been calling me up, hoping to get an interview..."

"I'm sorry." JJ replied, entering further into the room. "We tried to keep the media from finding out as long as we could. But..."

"It isn't yours or any of the others' fault. The media was bound to find out at some point." Rossi reassured JJ, who gave him an unsure smile.

"I'm still sorry. I...if it was me in your situation, I don't..." JJ faltered, thinking about her sons. She swallowed and took a steadying breath before continuing. "We will find why James was taken and everyone who knew about it."

"Yeah." Rossi nodded, and leaned forward. He hesitated a few seconds before replying further. "What I don't understand is why James? Why was it my son who was targeted? Dr. Connell started telling Dr. Richards those lies about me months before Carolyn went into labor..." Rossi rubbed his head, his jaw taut.

"It's likely you were the target. Someone connected to a case you were investigating at the time probably thought your grief would distract you." JJ offered. "Garcia's been looking into all your old cases for that time period."

"That's the thing, I only had a few cases I was working on at that time. And I solved each of them. None of those unsubs had a connection to Dr. Connell. And if anything, I devoted more time to my job after losing James." Rossi replied.

"Then maybe it was someone with a grudge against you."

Before Rossi could respond, Hotch entered the room.

"Rossi, JJ. Everyone's heading to the jet, we have a case."

0

"Shhh, it's all right. It's all right." Isabel Kaurich held the wailing two year old Ben in her arms. The two of them were in a trailer, located somewhere in midst of a forest.

The two year old continued to scream for his mother and struggled to escape Isabel's hold. He screamed and cried.

"No, no. That bad woman and man won't take you again. I'm here. I'm your mommy." Isabel whispered to him, her eyes teary seeing him crying. She kissed his forehead.

0

BAU Jet:

 _-"All right, my dears." Garcia began over video chat. "Early this morning, around four am, the unsub broke into the Fletcher's' house in Wheeling, West Virginia. Shot Nicole and Marcus Fletcher and took their two year old son, Benjamin Fletcher."-_

"Do the local police have any leads?" Morgan asked, flipping through the case files on his tablet.

 _-"The local authorities thought it may have been Nicole's estranged first husband, but he was locked up for drunken and disorderly conduct since ten pm in a Pennsylvanian town." Garcia replied while the sound of her fingers typing could be heard. "Police have been looking into other suspects but it appears the Fletcher's had only moved to the area four months ago."-_

"It says in the report that none of the doors or windows showed signs of being forced, and that all of the first floor windows were locked." Hotch read over the report. "It's possible the Fletcher's let the unsub into their house."

"What sort of parents would allow a stranger into their homes at four am?" JJ asked, shaking her head.

"It could've been someone the Fletcher's trusted. A neighbor or relative." Morgan postulated. "Maybe they invited the unsub to spend the night and he repaid them by taking the child and shooting the parents."

"Except the unsub would've had the whole night to kill the Fletcher's and take Benjamin. Or he could've taken their son without waking the parents. Why wait until four in the morning?" JJ chewed on her lips, thinking it over. "Why abduct Benjamin at home at all? It'd be safer and easier for the unsub to abduct him from a playground or a store."

 _-"The unsub may not have been able to. According to their neighbors, Nicole Fletcher was an extreme helicopter parent. She literally never left him anywhere alone. She wouldn't even answer her cell phone if she was the only one watching Benjamin."-_

"That doesn't make sense." JJ replied, confused. "If Mrs. Fletcher's so protective of her son, why would she leave the door unlocked at night?"

"We don't know if it was unlocked. Someone may have had a key. Or was let in. Maybe by the father, if not the mother." Morgan added the last bit after JJ started to protest that a mother like Nicole wouldn't let someone in at that time of night.

"Garcia, is there any word on the conditions of the parents?"

 _-"Sir, Marcus Fletcher is currently in surgery. And the doctors think he'll make it. Nicole Fletcher, however, got shot in the left temple and suffered massive brain damage. She's being kept on life support until her next of kin can be found and notified." Garcia said, her sparkliness dampened by the information.-_

"They haven't been able to contact any relatives?"

 _-"Aside from her ex-husband and their fifteen year old daughter who was sleeping over at a friend's, the police weren't able to reach any of Nicole's relatives. And police weren't able to find anything about Marcus' side of the family." Garcia twirled a glittery and feathered pen while she spoke.-_

"Hm. That's odd." Rossi spoke, his attention only partly on the discussion. Instead he focused on a page of Nicole Fletcher's medical report.

"...Rossi? Did you noticed something?"

"Hm? No, sorry." Rossi caught himself and swiped to another page on the tablet. The rest of the team shared a look. "What?"

"You know, Rossi, if you need some more time off..."

Rossi quickly rebuffed the idea. "I'm fine. If I had more time off, I'd go crazy. No." He shook his head, catching the concerned glances thrown his way. "Seriously, I'm fine. I just recognized the name of Mrs. Fletcher's doctor."

"...Somerfield?" JJ mumbled as she swiped back to the page containing that tidbit of information. She, Morgan, and Garcia didn't react to the name. Hotch, however looked sharply up at Rossi.

"What is it?" Morgan asked, after he caught the look. JJ and Garcia noticed as well.

"..." Rossi remained silent for a few seconds before giving Hotch an acquiescing gesture.

"Hotch? Rossi?"

"James was sent a letter from someone named Somerfield shortly after he was placed in prison." Hotch replied. "The actual letter was seemly destroyed by the other inmates, but one of the officers in charge of monitoring the inmates mail remembered seeing the letter."

Morgan, JJ, and Garcia each gaped at Hotch and Rossi. Confused and surprised, as well as partly hurt.

"We've been investigating about James for weeks, why didn't either of you mention this?"

"Because I went to the address the prison guard wrote down, and it led to an eighty-three year old lady who lived in the same neighborhood as James. Apparently he used to take her grocery shopping." Rossi replied, his demeanor saying to drop the subject. The other members of his team seemed reluctant to let it drop. "Look, we should focus on finding Benjamin Fletcher before the unsub harms him."

"Rossi's right. Our priority should be our current case. Everything else can wait until we catch the unsub and find Benjamin." Hotch backed up the older agent, though he took note of the reluctance of the other agents to let the matter drop. "Garcia, look into anyone with grievances against the Fletcher's and cross check it against any known violent criminals in the area, particularly those whose victims include children."

 _-"All right, sir. I'll get right on that." Garcia said, and clicked off the video-call.-_

"Morgan and JJ, see if there's anything at the Fletcher's' house that could link to the unsub or at least how he may have got in. Rossi and I will interview Nicole's daughter and ex-husband."

"Ok."


	18. My Only Sunshine Pt 2

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 18:** My Only Sunshine Pt2

"Jenna Fletcher? I'm David Rossi, from the BAU. And this is Aaron Hotchner." Rossi greeted the pacing teenager, whose tear-reddened eyes kept darting toward Nicole Fletcher's hospital room. The fifteen year old barely registered Rossi's greeting.

Instead she chewed on her fingernails, and wrapped her other arm around herself.

"...your father is on his way, Jenna." Hotch spoke, following the teen's gaze. "You can go in and see your mother if you want."

The teen sniffled, partly approaching the door at the same time as she shook her head. She backtracked just inches from opening the door. She mumbled something that neither agent were able to catch.

"Jenna?" Ted Gregson, Nicole's ex, called out as he approached. He held out his arms as though to embrace his daughter, but the fifteen year old instead mumbled a quick excuse and darted toward the lavatory. "Jen..."

"Ted Gregson, this is agent Rossi and I'm agent Hotchner." Hotch greeted Ted. "I know this must be a difficult time, and that you've already been questioned by the police, but we were hoping you could shed some light on a few things."

"...I already told them cops I didn't do it." Ted replied, belligerently. His deep gray eyes glared at the agents.

"We know you couldn't have done this." Hotch replied. "We just want to ask some questions concerning Nicole."

0

JJ stood in the center of Benjamin's room, staring at all the toddler toys and furniture. This was the type of case she hated.

"...based on where paramedics found the Fletchers, the unsub must have been in the room when he fired." Morgan studied the room and the crime scene report. "He was already in the room when Nicole Fletcher surprised him. He could've taken the toddler hostage to control the mother without needing to fire. Yet he didn't seem to hesitate shooting the Fletchers."

"...Morgan," JJ interrupted, realizing what had seemed off the moment she'd entered the room. She picked up a photo of the toddler in sleeping. "The unsub took Ben's blanket and his favorite plush toy as well."

JJ handed the photo to Morgan. Both the blanket and the stuffed bunny that Ben had in that photo were nowhere to be seen in the room. She approached the child's dresser and inspected the drawers, noting right away that it had been rifled through.

"The unsub also took a change of clothes for Ben." JJ said, after a drop of blood on one of the outfits caught her attention. Thinking for a moment she glanced back at the crib, then the rest of the scene. "...I think our unsub's a woman."

0

The lavatory lights were bright, and Jenna could hear the sounds of the bustling hospital through the door. She breathed in deeply to steady the flow of tears, then splashed water on her face.

She trembled, feeling nauseous as she recalled her mother lying in bed, hooked to those machines. And what she'd overheard the doctors say...that her mother was brain-dead.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Jenna gasped, sobbing once again. She took out her cell phone, checking her inbox through blurry eyes. Another sob escaped her once she saw there'd been no response.

Trying once more to steady herself by taking a deep breath, Jenna dialed a number. Barely a ring and a half in it cut off and went to voicemail. She felt her stomach clench at the beep and the automated voice.

"...what did you do? Oh, god..." Jenna half sobbed, half whispered into the phone. Her hands shaking. She quickly pressed the call end button when the restroom door opened.

It was one of the nurses, there to ask if she was all right.

0

Isabel hummed, holding Benjamin against her. She had dressed him in a green and blue dinosaur shirt with a lighter blue pair of pants.

"Mommy's here, mommy's here. It'll be all right." She crooned and patted the boy's back gently. She kissed his forehead and started singing to him. Her voice melodious and soft.

The sounds of the forest outside were the only other noise, the trailer quite peaceful while the boy slept. The sound of her cell phone ringing again broke the tranquility. It's shrillness caused Benjamin to stir in her arms.

Hushing the toddler, Isabel picked up the phone, saw the number calling and pressed the hang up button. She held down until it powered off. Her face scowling at the contraption even then.

"Shh, shh. It's all right. No one's gonna take you again." Isabel whispered between kisses on Benjamin's forehead. "No one will. No one."

Her eyes locked on the pistol laid on the trailer's small counter.

0

"What do you think?" Hotch asked Rossi after Ted Gregson left the room. The sobered up man hadn't been much help answering questions. Nothing about his demeanor suggested he was lying or complicit in the abduction, but something bothered Hotch.

"...I doubt he had anything to do with our unsub. But there's something about him..." Rossi replied. He rubbed his chin, thinking. "You saw how his daughter Jenna avoided him. Her mother and step-father are both shot, her baby brother kidnapped yet she avoids her father. She didn't even look at him."

"I agree it's strange. But who does it say more about? The father or daughter? Mr. Gregson doesn't seem to have any animosity towards his daughter. Nor his ex-wife." Hotch's cell phone started ringing before Rossi could suggest talking with the daughter. Glancing at the number, Hotch answered it and placed it on speaker. "JJ, did you and Morgan find anything?"

 _-"The unsub is a woman. Possibly a mother." JJ said, she and Morgan searching the downstairs pantry. "She took the time to take not just Ben's blanket and favorite toy, but also a change of clothes and some baby food and a bottle. A man would likely not bother taking anything but the child. Especially not after he shot the parents."-_

"Um, that does make it more likely that the unsub's a woman." Hotch replied, about to say more when Morgan interrupted.

 _-"It's definitely a woman. One that either had kids of her own or took care of other people's. Nicole Fletcher made her own homemade baby food for her son. The unsub recognized it for what it was and took a few containers."-_

"In that case, it's possible the unsub used homemade baby food herself. Likely with her own child." Hotch considered things, and glanced at Rossi.

"If our unsub is a mother, it's likely she lost a child recently and took Benjamin as a replacement." Rossi said. "We should have Garcia look into women in the area who lost a child recently."

Hotch agreed, and while Rossi called up Garcia to do just that, he continued with another question. "Have you managed to find out how the unsub got inside the house?"

 _-"There's no sign that the unsub climbed up to an upstairs window. Nor is there any sign of forced entry downstairs. One of the Fletcher's must have left a door unlocked or let the unsub in."-_

"Considering the unsub is likely female, Mrs. Fletcher might not have had the same reservations about letting a strange woman in as opposed to a male. Especially if the unsub used a ruse that would play to Mrs. Fletcher's maternal instincts."

 _-"Maybe. But that doesn't explain how the unsub managed to slip into the nursery before the Fletchers. The unsub shot them from inside the room."-_

"All right, Garcia." Rossi's voice cut through before Hotch could reply to JJ and Morgan. He turned to Hotch, as Garcia patched into the phone call with the team. "Garcia may have found something."

"What is it, Garcia?"

 _-"Sirs, Nicole doesn't seem to have much in way of relatives. Neither does her first husband, and both seemed to have moved around a lot. For various reasons." Garcia spoke, fidgeting with her glittery pen. "Nicole's recent move with her second husband seemed to have been prompted by a stalker. Not the scary, perverted kind, but rather a woman around Nicole's age who kept harassing her."-_

"Did the Fletchers know her name? Or what she looked like?"

 _-"Oh, yes. In fact, Marcus took out a restraining order against the woman after finding out about the harassment." Garcia paused, clicking her pen. "Her name's Isabel Kaurich and she had been stalking Nicole for at least six months. Here, however, is were it gets dicey. When questioned by the police about the harassment, Ms. Kaurich accused the Fletchers of kidnapping her baby. She insisted that Benjamin was hers and that the Fletchers kidnapped him."-_

 _-"Wow, that's a serious accusation. How did the Fletchers respond?" Morgan inquired.-_

 _-"They denied it. And local police looked into things, found that Ms. Kaurich had given birth to a child around the same time as Nicole and even at the same hospital, but to a girl not a boy." Garcia replied, a sad curve to her lips. "Further, Ms. Kaurich's daughter died while she was in a psychiatric hospital in Nevada."-_

 _-"That has to be the trigger. She couldn't handle the truth and so she convinces herself the Fletchers took her child." JJ said.-_

"Garcia, do you have an address and photo for Isabel Kaurich?" Hotch asked, only for Garcia to reply of course and that she was sending it right away. Once the information reached their phones, Hotch suggested they meet there, and ended the call.

Rossi, however, paused after glancing at the photo of Isabel Kaurich. His eyes narrowed, something about the woman familiar, though he had never seen her before.

"Dave?"

"...I don't know, Aaron. Something about this feels off. I can't..." Rossi trailed off as he saw Jenna Fletcher standing outside her mother's hospital room. He looked at her and then back at the photo of Isabel. "Am I crazy or does Isabel Kaurich resemble Jenna Fletcher?"

Hotch's brow rose in surprise, but he nonetheless looked at the photo Garcia had sent then at the fifteen year old down the corridor. He quickly noticed the similarities between the two. Both in coloring and facial features. Hotch turned back to Rossi, expression incredulous.

"They look like they could be related." Rossi suggested, still glancing at Jenna.

"...Jenna does have a widow's peak and cleft chin. Both, I believe, are dominant genetic traits. A child who has them usually has a parent with the same trait. Yet neither Nicole nor her ex-husband have either." Hotch replied, while also noting that Isabel Kaurich had both. Combined with the similar coloring in hair and eyes...

Rossi quickly called Garcia back up. "Garcia, did Isabel Kaurich have any other children?"

 _-"Oh, let me just check..." Garcia mumbled, the sound of her typing audible over the phone. "Yes. Fifteen years ago, Ms. Kaurich gave birth to a daughter that was reported to have died within hours of being born."-_

Rossi shared a look with Hotch. "At what hospital did Isabel give birth fifteen years ago?"

 _-"That would be..." Garcia paused while she read the information on her screen. "That is so uncanny. It's the same one Nicole Fletcher, known as Nicole Gregson at the time, gave birth to her daughter Jenna. The only difference is that Nicole gave birth fourteen hours before Isabel. Hm." Garcia paused in thought, considering the coincidence.-_

"Thanks, Garcia." Rossi replied, hanging up.

"Dave, you don't think that...?" Hotch started to ask, glancing back at Jenna.

"It could explain why Jenna hasn't stepped foot in her mother's hospital room and why she's avoiding her father." Rossi replied.

Hotch mulled over the idea. "All right, see if you can get Jenna to tell you what she knows. And question Ted Gregson again. I'll meet up with JJ and Morgan at Isabel Kaurich's place."

"Good luck."


	19. My Only Sunshine Pt 3

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 19:** My Only Sunshine Pt3

Benjamin Fletcher wailed, his crying voice shrill. His eyes, a soft amber hue, wrinkled up as he bawled. The strange woman was standing over him and his mother was nowhere to be seen.

"Shut up. Shut up." Isabel hissed through clenched teeth, though not at the two year old. Rather the hiss was directed toward the other end of the trailer. No one was there. "I am his mother. I am."

Isabel growled at the empty air, her voice soon becoming as shrill as the wailing toddler's. She paced across the small trailer's floor, not paying any attention to Benjamin crying beside the bed. She nearly stepped on him.

"Shut up!" Isabel shouted, glaring at the empty air. Her eyes seemed to be seeing someone despite it being only her and the boy in the trailer. "He is my baby. He is. He has to be."

She picked up the pistol and continued to pace, mumbling to herself. Still ignoring the crying toddler.

0

"Hello, Jenna? I'd like to ask you some questions." Rossi asked the fifteen year old, his vocal tone sympathetic. "Do you think you're up to it?"

Jenna frowned, her lips quivering. Her entire demeanor that of someone ready to fold under a terrible weight. Rossi quickly led her to a chair and offered her a cup of water. Her distress stopped him from asking his questions.

"It's okay. Just rest." Rossi said, feeling a tidbit of disappointment at being unable to ask her questions, but it was generally overwhelmed by feeling her distress. He decided it would be better to start with Ted Gregson instead.

He was about to do so when Jenna grabbed his sleeve.

"Did they find her yet?" Jenna asked haltingly in a broken voice. She searched Rossi's face, imploring him to answer.

"Find her?" Rossi asked, thrown off by the pronoun. The child taken was a boy, and Jenna's younger brother.

"Isa. The woman who took Bennie." Jenna swallowed back a sob, though tears still fell silently down her cheeks.

"Jenna, you know the woman who took your brother?" Rossi asked as he sat down next to her.

"She wasn't supposed to hurt anybody. She only wanted to see Bennie and tuck him in. She wasn't supposed to..." Jenna started sobbing, halting the words she was no longer able to keep to herself.

Rossi gaped quietly at the teen for a second, her admission explaining much that had baffled them. "You gave Isabel the key to your house."

He drew in a breath as Jenna nodded. "It's my fault."

"No, no, it isn't. You didn't know what she was going to do." Rossi reassured Jenna, while he heard someone approach before suddenly stopping. He glanced up and saw Ted Gregson.

"Jenna, what did you do?" Ted asked the distraught teenager. His own face and posture displaying terrible fear mixed with horror. There wasn't however any anger.

"I...I...I'm sorry." Jenna sobbed, wrapping her arms around herself in a comforting gesture. "She seemed so lonely, I didn't..."

"Jenna, Jennie. It's all right." Ted knelt down in front of his daughter and gently held her hands. "It's okay. It's okay."

Rossi watched as Ted consoled Jenna, the misgivings he had had earlier vanishing. Ted Gregson was a father who genuinely loved his daughter.

"No. It's not all right." Jenna pushed her father away suddenly, her pained expression also angry. "Mom's..."

Ted took a deep breath, composing himself before responding. "I know...it's not your fault. It'll be okay."

Jenna shook her head, denying the reassurance. "You're lying. You always lie. It's not going to be all right. Mom...I...it's my fault..."

"No." Rossi reassured the teen when Ted seemed unable to say more. "You had no control over what Isabel did. That's entirely on her."

Jenna looked at Rossi, her tear-stained face conflicted. She wanted to believe him but something prevented her. "No, you don't understand. Isa...she doesn't always know what she's doing. I should've been there. I should've made sure she was okay."

"Jenna..." Ted said, interrupting Rossi attempting to reassure the teen again. "Why were you talking to her at all? That woman..."

"She doesn't lie. She may get confused and not know what she's doing, but she doesn't lie." Jenna snapped, though her tone remained more sad than angry. "Unlike you and mom."

"Jenna, we didn't lie. We didn't..."

"You lied about Isa. About me." Jenna snapped again, her tone getting more accusatory. "You said I wasn't adopted. I..."

"You weren't. You're our daughter. Our flesh and..."

"I had a DNA test done." Jenna said, shaking her head vehemently against Ted's denial. Rossi quickly glanced at Ted, though it wasn't quite the questioning session he'd sought, there was a lot of information being given. Even if inadvertently. "Neither of you are my biological parents."

Rossi noted that Ted blanched and gave a furtive glance at him as though terrified of Rossi overhearing. It wasn't at all a normal reaction. Ted Gregson was more terrified of Rossi hearing about Jenna not being related to her parents by blood than by him learning that Jenna had given the unsub her house key.

"We should talk about this later." Ted said, swallowing and throwing another furtive glance at Rossi.

Jenna looked at Ted, a mix of emotions running rampant through her. "Why do you keep lying or avoiding talking about things? I know the truth...Why...?" Jenna implored, her eyes searching his. They slowly widened as an idea occurred to her. She pulled away, slowly shaking her head. "Was Isa right? Did you and mom...? Did you take..."

"Enough. I'm not going to talk about this now." Ted replied, trying to regain control of the conversation and hide the truth, but failed miserably. Rossi saw right through him.

"God, I'm gonna be sick..." Jenna mumbled and ran to the lavatory. She too hadn't been fooled by Ted's denial or avoidance.

"Jenna, wait!" Ted started after her, only to be stopped by Rossi.

"I believe we should have another chat, Mr. Gregson." Rossi spoke, his tone and expression leaving no room for dissent.

0

"Isabel Kaurich! FBI!" Hotch shouted as he, Morgan, and JJ, along with a few of the local police, approached the tiny trailer. The mobile home was too tiny for their arrival to be a surprise from the occupant.

Sure enough, Isabel Kaurich exited the trailer. A child's wail could be heard coming from inside the home. Isabel stumbled to the ground however, blood covering her leg.

They quickly hurried toward the woman, and to the crying boy inside the trailer.

"His arm's broken." JJ called out after reaching the screaming child and picking him up. She noticed quickly that Benjamin's showed signs of being stepped on. A result of which was his broken arm.

"Damn." Morgan said, noticing the blood pooled on the trailer floor. He let JJ enough room to exit with the crying child in her arms.

"Is Benjamin all right?" Hotch asked as JJ handed Benjamin to the paramedics. He had knelt next to Isabel Kaurich while JJ and Morgan had checked inside the trailer, which barely had enough space for two adults.

"He has a broken arm, but I think he's okay otherwise." JJ said, staying close to the child while the paramedics did their job. "What about Kaurich?"

"She has a bullet wound in her leg and has lost a lot of blood."

"Self-inflicted?" JJ asked, smiling sadly after the boy when the paramedics took him away into the ambulance.

"Hard to say. The angle of entry seemed strange, but it's possible." Hotch replied while Morgan stepped out of the trailer.

"I think Ms. Kaurich might have tripped and shot herself in the leg. There's indications she was pacing quite a lot inside the trailer." Morgan explained, while JJ tittered incredulously.

"She must've stepped on Benjamin and tripped because of that. His shirt sleeve had a shoe-print on it." JJ felt half relieved but also disgusted. She had pictured Isabel as a distraught mother, but what sort if mother would step on a child?

"Isabel Kaurich did spend time in a psychiatric hospital. It's possible she had a psychotic break after taking Benjamin and shooting the Fletchers."

"It's lucky the bullet only hit her leg and not Benjamin." Morgan shook his head, looking while the paramedics brought a bandaged and sedated Isabel Kaurich to a second ambulance.

"We should return to the hospital and tell the family Benjamin's all right." Hotch said, and headed to the SUV.

"All right." JJ said, climbing into the passenger side. Morgan got in back. "You said Rossi stood behind to question Nicole's daughter and ex-husband. It doesn't seem necessary now."

"That depends on what he finds out." Hotch replied as he pulled back onto the road. Morgan and JJ gave him curious looks at the cryptic response. "It's possible that Kaurich was right about her child being taken but wrong about which child it was."

"What?" JJ and Morgan both gaped. Their impression about Kaurich and the Fletchers changing. "You mean Jenna Fletcher could be Isabel's?"

"She might be. Ms. Kaurich gave birth fifteen years ago to a daughter within hours of Nicole Fletcher. At the same hospital." Hotch replied. He continued before JJ or Morgan mentioned it could simply be a coincidence. "Neither of you saw Jenna Fletcher. She resembles Isabel Kaurich a lot. Enough that it's possible that they're related."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Damn..." Morgan breathed, the next moment narrowing his eyes as he remembered a detail. JJ seemed to also be thinking. "Wait a minute. Didn't Rossi mention Mrs. Fletcher's doctor had the same name as the person who sent James a letter in prison? A Dr. Somerfield?"

"And if Nicole Fletcher did take Jenna from Isabel Kaurich..." JJ looked at Hotch. "Hotch, you don't think that this...this might be connected to what happened to Rossi's son James? That the Somerfield who sent the letter is the same as the Fletchers' doctor?"

"I don't know. But it's possible. It depends on how many Somerfields there are. It could be a coincidence."

"I'll call up Garcia." Morgan said, dialing up the tech analyst. She answered shortly after the first ring. "Baby girl, I was wondering if you could tell us how many 'Somerfields' there are?"

 _-"In the US, less than 200. That's to say it's a very uncommon name." Garcia replied without a pause to actually type on her keyboard. She noticed the surprised silence at the quickness of her answer. "What? After Rossi mentioned that his son received a letter from someone named Somerfield, I did some digging."-_

"...What else did you find out?" Hotch asked after sharing a silent glance with JJ and Morgan.

 _-"Well, sir, I believe I found out which Somerfield sent the letter. And that old lady Rossi spoke to might not be so innocent." Garcia revealed. "She's the sister of a Dr. Morland Somerfield, a psychiatrist, and he ran his practice out of her home until fifteen years ago. He's moved his practice quite a few times since then, mostly due to a loss of reputation after his longstanding friends and colleagues Dr. Gregory and Dr. Judith Bennett were arrested and lost their licenses after it was discovered they had been conducting psychological experiments on their patients without informing the patients or bothering to seek consent."-_

"Did those experiments have to do with sensory deprivation?" Hotch asked after turning onto the street that led toward the hospital.

 _-"Yes. Their focus was on the effects of the more extreme types of sensory deprivation and social seclusion, among other things. They were investigated after the deaths of three patients in their care due to severe sleep deprivation." Garcia paused as she read the files on the Bennetts on her computer screen. "'Monsters' doesn't begin to describe these two. When questioned after being arrested, they justified what they did by saying they had consent. But those patients they experimented on weren't well or competent enough to give consent."-_

"Damn." Morgan mumbled, his thoughts like JJ and Hotch's were on James Rossi and the near certainty they had that he had been subjected to similar experiments. The only reason they didn't know for sure was because James still refused to speak with any of them.


	20. There Is Another Sunshine

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 20:** There is Another Sunshine

Ted Gregson swallowed and fidgeted, the room Rossi had brought him to, to talk undisturbed, unbearable. Though not because of any physical flaw. It was Rossi's questioning that made him want to flee.

"Gregson, it won't take long, based on Jenna's revelation and Ms. Kaurich's accusations, to get a warrant for a DNA test. So I suggest you start telling the truth." Rossi warned, after Gregson had attempted to deny what the agent had overheard.

Ted Gregson nearly denied things again, but instead changed his mind. He turned pale.

"It wasn't my idea." Ted mumbled, clenching and unclenching his fists on the table. "Fifteen years ago, I...my ex-wife Nicole gave birth but there were complications. I swear I had no intention of taking another child. Neither did Nicole."

"But you did." Rossi replied, his words only partly a question.

"Yes, well...yes." Ted sighed and covered his face with his hands. The sound seemed filled with relief. After another sigh, he cleared his throat and dropped his hands from his face.

Rossi's gaze roamed over the man, taking in every muscle twitch. He had expected more resistance to the kidnapping accusation, especially since Ted Gregson loved his daughter. "So, Isabel Kaurich is Jenna's biological mother?"

Ted nodded. "Look, I know you likely think Nicole and I as horrible people, taking Jenna from Isabel, but she..." He drew in a breath, recalling the moment fifteen years ago. "We just lost our own daughter. Just a few hours old and we lost..."

"You were grief-stricken, losing your child. I know what that's like." Rossi grimaced as he spoke, and drummed his fingers on the table as he watched Ted Gregson react to his words.

"You lost a child? So you understand, the pain, the grief..." Ted started, only to falter seeing Rossi scowl. His mouth twitched, his eyes hesitantly studying the agent.

"I understand all right. I also know what the biological parents must've went through. And what they will feel when they find out the truth." Rossi added, his jaw taut as he mulled over the emotions battling inside him. If the stuff dealing with James hadn't happened, he'd probably be feeling more empathetic for Ted Gregson. Now he just felt more empathy for Isabel Kaurich. "Here's what I don't get. Your background fifteen years ago was clean. You and your ex-wife were both stable, physically, mentally, and financially. Yet, instead of trying for another child or adopting, you kidnap another couple's baby by switching children. You made the other mother think her daughter died. Made her go through the same grief."

"No. That's not...that's not what..." Ted inhaled sharply after false starting twice in his response.

"What? That's not what happened?" Rossi retorted, recalling what Garcia had found out. "Or not what you wanted? Because it did happen, you not only took the baby but also made the mother think her baby was dead."

"No. That was that hospital. That doctor and nurse...they..." Ted gave an exasperated and tired sigh, before averting his gaze in shame. Rossi watched him and waited, despite the urge to snap at the other man. "They had already told the mother that her baby was dead. Nic...I overheard them talk about another family they'd expected to sell the baby to had backed out or something. And Nicole, she...no, I confronted them. And..."

Rossi felt sickened hearing what Ted was saying, and also furious. "Nicole bought Jenna from her kidnappers. She bought Isabel Kaurich's baby within hours of that baby being born." Rossi shook his head, glowering at the thought. He interrupted Ted when the man insisted he'd been the one to do so and not Nicole. "It's no use protecting your ex-wife. Regardless of who's idea it was, what you two did was illegal."

"You don't understand." Ted interrupted, his tone and body language becoming defensive. "After...I looked into that 'family' that was the expected buyer. The father was a pervert who got himself arrested for raping and killing a three year old. If we hadn't taken Jenna, that doctor would've sold her to god knows who."

"That's your defense? That if you hadn't bought Isabel's baby from its kidnappers, she would've ended up with worse people?" Rossi shook his head, repulsed by such an excuse. "Why didn't you or Nicole go to the police with this information? Your testimony would've gotten that doctor arrested as well as his accomplice, and would've prevented other children from being sold. Who knows how many more children were sold to perverts because you didn't do the right thing and tell someone about this." Rossi seethed, his eyes glaring at the other man. He knew allowing himself to get riled up wouldn't help matters, but he kept thinking about James.

"I'm sorry, all right? But you got to understand, Nicole and I love Jenna. We never hurt her, and probably provided a much better home than her real mother could." Ted fell silent as Rossi shook his head.

"That wasn't for either of you to decide." Rossi said after a moment, drumming his fingers on the table's smooth surface. He paused and studied Ted, wondering how the man could justify what he and his wife had done. "Mr. Gregson, what were the names of those who sold you Ms. Kaurich's daughter?"

"I...I don't know."

Rossi glared at Ted, the last of his patience dwindling. "Mr. Gregson, if you don't cooperate and give me the names of the people who sold you Jenna, then I will see to it that you're charged as an accomplice to that kidnapping and any others these people committed."

"I...I only ever knew one of their names. He's the one I made the check out to." Ted sighed, and massaged his forehead. His thoughts recalling the man from fifteen years ago. "Connell. Tobias Connell."

Rossi drew in a breath; hearing that name, while not completely unexpected, still struck him. "Dr. Tobias Connell? He's the one who sold you Kaurich's baby?"

Ted nodded. "Yeah. Though...the thing is, he never cashed the check. I don't know why..." Ted's brow knitted as he recalled that detail.

"...Was Jenna born in August, by any chance?" Rossi asked, after hearing Ted's last sentence. His own brain in midst of forming an hypothesis.

"Yeah, August 8th. I wrote the check for the 10th, after we brought Jenna home."

"That explains it." Rossi mumbled, shaking his head then leaning back in his chair. He caught Ted Gregson's perplexed stare. "Dr. Tobias Connell died the night of August 10th, fifteen years ago. He likely never had the chance to cash that check."

"God, he died? Then that means he didn't take any other children after that." Ted muttered, his voice sounding a bit relieved. Despite the excuses he'd given Rossi, Ted Gregson had felt guilt at not reporting the kidnappers. "...Wait, how did you know that? I only just gave you that name, how..."

"Tobias Connell was a suspect in a similar case." Rossi replied without elaborating, the next moment checking his phone after it beeped.

0

"All right, I understand. And thank you." Leah Clemens hung up the phone, and sighed. She rubbed her forehead, trying to massage away the beginning of a stress headache. It was her day off, but she didn't feel able to relax. Since first dealing with James Rossi at the prison, she had tried contacting the patient she had had before, to no avail.

She also hadn't been able to glean much from her fellow doctors. Over the past few weeks she'd been able to speak with James, and she'd tried to get him to speak about his childhood. What she'd got, however, wasn't much more than what was already in the files.

She could get nothing from James to confirm or deny the sensory deprivation that she was certain he'd been subjected to.

Leah sighed and glanced at the photographs on her desk. One was of her husband and two step-daughters, and it had a lavish wood frame. Another was of her holding her son, taken so many years ago, when he was only a year old and she was 19. Not the 49 years she was now. The third one was small and placed partly behind the other two. It showed her with her first husband, shortly after they had married.

Her first pregnancy had just started to show when that photo was taken. And she had been only fifteen at the time, though she'd pretended to be nineteen so she and her boyfriend could get married. She recalled being so in love that she hadn't given other people's warnings a second thought.

Biting into her lip nervously, she picked up her phone and started dialing her husband's number. Once it reached voicemail, she sighed.

"Jeff, when you get this, please call me. There's something I need to talk about." Leah said, her eyes glancing over the files on her desk. Her stomach knotted.

She leafed through the files referring to James, then to an article written about him. About not just what James had done, but also about how he had been switched at birth. She wrung her hands, her brain reeling over that information.

Unlike the journalist that wrote the article, who assumed the switch had been hospital error, Leah knew from the prisoner files and talking with Rossi when the agent had visited James, that it wasn't. The switch had been deliberate.

She shut and put away the file, nearly dropping it from how much her hands trembled.

 _"No!" The cry, nearly primal in grief, reverberated through the hospital corridor. It sickened her and she froze, nearly ready to turn around._

 _"It's all right." Vincent whispered to her, escorting her back to her room. His reassurance hadn't worked at first as the distraught wail echoed in her ears. But what he said next did. "They have another."_

Leah picked up the photograph of her with her first husband, Vincent. Her tired eyes marveled at the happiness on her face in the photo. A little over thirty-three years had passed since the day depicted in the photograph yet it seemed an eternity.

She placed the framed photo back and covered her eyes, her first husband's words echoing in her thoughts.

 _'They have another.'_

She trembled, wondering why she'd ever listened to those words.


	21. Though It Be Darkness There

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 21:** Though It Be Darkness There

A Few Days Later:

"So far, aside from Tobias Connell's dealings with the Wagners and the Gregsons, we don't know how many children he and his nephew may have sold." Hotch said, sitting with Morgan, JJ, and Lewis in the conference room. Rossi had decided to go to the prison and try to talk with James to learn more about what his son had endured, and hopefully glean more information that could help them.

Since finding out Ted Gregson's deal with Dr. Connell while on their previous case, both the unit chief and director agreed to allow his team to investigate the case. A case that was starting to appear bigger than first surmised.

"Based on what Gregson told Rossi, it's safe to assume that Tobias Connell and his partner kidnapped and sold more children by falsifying their deaths." Morgan said, shaking his head as he spoke. The entire idea was repugnant.

"Garcia is going through all of Connell's financial records. As well as employment records to see which hospitals he may have taken babies from."

"What about Dr. Somerfield? He's the only person, beside Connell, that has a connection to both the Gregsons and the Vaughns. Not to mention the letter he sent to James." Lewis said. "Shouldn't we bring him in for questioning?"

"I agree, but so far we haven't been able to find him. He apparently booked a flight abroad almost a month ago, but he didn't show up at the airport when agents attempted to head him off. Nor has he shown up at his office or home in nearly two weeks." Hotch replied.

"It sounds to me that Somerfield is our guy. He finds out we know about James, and so he figures it's just a matter of time before we find out about Connell. And he decides to run." Morgan said, leaning forward as he read the information they'd been able to find regarding the cases.

"It's also possible that Somerfield is just a puppet and whoever he works for decided to kill him like they did Kenneth Connell." JJ iterated.

"I think we would have found Dr. Somerfield by now if that was the case. It didn't take long for Kenneth Connell's body to be found. Nor Tobias Connell's fifteen years ago for that matter."

"It's likely Somerfield is alive, and on the run." Hotch stated, pausing briefly. "The only problem is that, if Somerfield is the mastermind behind Connell's scheme, he knew we would be coming for him over a month before we knew he even existed."

Each of the BAU members present frowned, not liking the odds of their suspect evading them. With such a head start, Somerfield could be anywhere. Maybe even have a new identity.

"We don't know for sure that Somerfield was in on the kidnappings. He wasn't affiliated with the hospitals James or Jenna were born at." Hotch broke the uncomfortable silence that their frustration had cast. His words prompted the start of a protest, but he continued. "Morland Somerfield's connection to the Bennets and their illegal experiments, does make it more likely that he is connected to the experimentation done on James. But we haven't found a traceable connection between the experimentation and Connell's kidnapping scheme. Jenna Fletcher hadn't been subjected to any therapy or experiments."

"You don't believe that." JJ said, her words reflected in the look she gave Hotch. "Out of all the children Connell possibly took and sold, the one he stole from a FBI agent is the one subjected to such horrific experimentation? Come on."

"I don't disagree that Somerfield is involved, but we haven't found any transactions between him and Connell. Nothing connects the two of them." Hotch replied. "Until we find a connection, it'd be best to profile them separately."

"All right." Morgan leaned back in his seat, considering things. "We know it was about the money with Tobias Connell. He found buyers for children beforehand."

"No, not with the Wagners and James. He couldn't have known Amy Wagner's son would die shortly after birth." Lewis said, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Yet, according to what Rossi found out from Dr. Richards, Connell planned on taking James months ahead of time. He should've had a buyer already lined up." Morgan paused. "Why did he choose the Wagners?"

"James was born preterm." JJ replied after recalling the information they'd gleaned from Rossi in regards to James birth. "Connell may have thought he had more time to pick a buyer."

"But he had months to prepare. He knew he needed a buyer, one that wouldn't draw suspicion. And even if the baby was born early, he could take the child to the buyer."

"I don't think it would be that easy. Simply taking a child out of the hospital without someone being suspicious?" JJ shook her head, not believing it possible for Connell to have smuggled a newborn out of the hospital.

"He could have had the buyers come in, pretending to be in labor themselves, so no one would think twice about them leaving with a baby."

"Then how would he know which women would be giving birth? Or when? Labor can start at any time, especially in the final month. And he wasn't the doctor in charge of James."

"JJ's right. There's too many variables. It could've worked out once, especially if Connell took a newborn on a whim after his patient lost her baby. But planning when a women would give birth and making sure his buyer is in the hospital pretending to be in labor themselves at the right time?" Morgan shook his head.

"What if..." Lewis began, a gut-wrenching idea occuring to her. "What if he created both supply and demand for the babies he sold?"

"Wait, you mean, maybe he caused the mothers' babies to die and then he sold them someone else's?" JJ gaped, horrified and sickened by the idea.

Lewis nodded.

"If he did, he would likely need a partner who either supplied what he needed or administered it to the newborns. As well as to fabricate records. It's also likely he and his partner switched hospitals constantly to avoid arousing suspicion of so many newborns in their charge dying."

"We should have Garcia look into the nurse who was talking with Connell the day he sold Jenna to the Gregsons. It's likely that nurse is, or was at some point, his partner. And maybe, that nurse is the link between Somerfield and Connell."

Hotch nodded, thinking silently. He stood up before replying. "Ok, go tell Garcia to find out if any nurses transferred to different hospitals around the same time as Connell."

"Ok. Where are you going?" Morgan asked after Hotch started toward the door.

"We need to know how the Wagners and the Gregsons babies died. If Connell or his partner did kill them, knowing how could help us find other victims." Hotch paused, letting his words and their implications sink in. Mainly that it was likely they would have to exhume the bodies of the dead infants.

0

Leah Clemens sat alone in her youngest step-daughter's bedroom. Her cheeks were pale and shiny with tears. Two days ago, after coming home from work, she had confided in her current husband what she'd done thirty-three years ago.

His response, once he realized she wasn't joking, was to take his daughters and leave. Despite Leah's pleading with him, he refused to stay. Not able to even argue with her, aside from asking how a mother could do what she did.

It was the same question Leah asked herself now. How could she have taken a child? It had been easy to answer thirty-three years ago, when the loss of her baby had been fresh. But the more time passed, the harder it seemed to justify her choice.

Why had she taken the child? Why had she been convinced by her first husband that doing so was all right? Just because the couple had another child didn't mean their pain would be any less. And her losing her daughter didn't justify taking that couple's.

Leah picked up her cell phone, tempted to call her husband Jeff and beg him to forgive her. But she knew he wouldn't. Not after she foolishly revealed that she didn't even know where Leigh was, that she had abandoned the girl long ago in favor of her real child that she had when Leigh was two.

Whatever remaining trust Jeff had had for her until then, she saw vanish in the way he gaped at her. His shocked face had become horrified, like he was beholding a monster.

"I'm sorry." Leah mumbled, cursing herself for ever thinking about telling Jeff. She had hoped he'd stand behind her, giving her enough support to tell the police or FBI. She cursed her job and the magazine article for stirring up her guilt.

If she had never met or learned about what happened to James Rossi, she could've pretended Leigh never existed. Until she learned that agent Rossi's son had been deliberately switched, she'd thought what she and her husband had done with that doctor's help had been the only time such a thing had happened.

Leah swallowed and placed her phone away, instead picking up a pad of stationery and a pen from her step-daughter's desk. After meeting such a negative reaction from Jeff, she knew she wouldn't be able to vocalize her confession. But writing it down might not be so daunting.

It was simply figuring out who she should address it to that gave her pause.

0

Spencer placed down the book he'd been reading. It'd been nearly a week since his date with Alsie and she hadn't yet called him. Neither had Shelly, despite him having left a voice mail message on both of their phones.

He wondered if he'd somehow messed things up between him and Alsie. His and Alsie's date hadn't really been a typical one. They hadn't seen a movie as they'd planned, and the date had been cut short.

He wondered if it even counted as a date or as simply a shopping trip.

Spencer picked up another book, quietly counting down the time until his medical leave was over and he could return to work. It was less than two days away, though he still needed to get clearance from his doctor to return to the field.

He laid the book back down, wondering about Alsie and what she had told him while on their date. That she had lost a child three years ago, and that the child's father had left prior to that.

 _'Alsie...'_ Spencer smiled wistfully as he thought about each time they had met. His brow furrowed now and then as he recalled each memory. He still found it confusing why he'd repressed the memory of meeting her when they were eight, especially since he'd been drawn to her even back then.

The reason he came up with, that he must've felt guilty at not helping her despite seeing her bruises, didn't seem right. Not completely. There was some other reason why besides guilt. It was strange, and perhaps selfish, but he could recall feeling abandoned by her when Alsie hadn't returned to the park after that first day.

Spencer sighed.


	22. The Soul Has Bandaged Moments

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 22:** The Soul Has Bandaged Moments

 _2003:_

 _"Shh, shh. It's all right." A soothing voice whispered while a comforting hand patted his hand. With the hand came the floral scent of lotion. It wasn't rose or lilac, but it smelled nice._

 _He wondered if he was dreaming. Reaching into his memory, that's all that made sense. He recalled driving to the bar, having a few drinks and whiling away the time. Just waiting for one of the women patrons to catch his eye._

 _None of them had, so he'd exited the bar after his second bourbon. And he'd reached his van when he noticed her, waiting across the parking lot at the bus stop._

 _The first thing he noticed was the umbrella she gripped tightly in her hand. Not one of the compact-able ones but the cane-length kind. He found it curious since there weren't any clouds in the sky. The next thing he noticed was how tiny she seemed._

 _She seemed so delicate. He knew he had to have her._

 _Licking his lip, he strolled toward her. His blood pumping in anticipation. He recalled hitting on her, and asking if she needed a ride. Also he made a comment about the umbrella, and that it didn't seem likely to rain._

 _Unlike the flirting and offer for a ride, that comment was what prompted the petite woman to respond. She spewed forth observations about the atmosphere and scent in the air, as well as the activity of insects: each being an indication that it would rain. At least according to her._

 _He had scoffed at that, which caused the woman to protest. The next moment, as though nature itself had decided to back the woman, a light rain drop hit his cheek. The woman smiled bemusedly immediately afterwards._

 _"Guess I was wrong. How about I give you a lift?" James had told the petite woman, as he took in her face and form. Her eyes were brown, though lighter than his, and her hair was also a shade of brown. The smooth strands were pulled so the right side of her face was covered._

 _"Um..." She grimaced, wrinkling her nose at the scent of alcohol on his breath. "How much did you have to drink?"_

 _"Ah, I can still drive. It's not a big deal." He countered, standing as steady as he would fully sober._

 _"...twenty-eight people die each day from alcohol impaired driving. That's roughly one every fifty-three minutes." The woman said in her soft voice, pausing briefly to grimace again. James was about to refute that and reassure her he hadn't drank that much when she held out her hand._

 _"...what?"_

 _"Keys. I'll drive." She said, surprising James. He considered refusing for a moment, but instead complied - he wanted to get her in his van after all. It didn't matter if he or she drove, just that she'd get in._

 _"Fine." He had handed her the keys and they both headed to the van. It had been simple giving her directions and leading her to where he wanted. Simpler than if he'd been driving._

 _"Shh. Shh. Do you remember?" The soft voice spoke to him, and he felt her dabbing a cloth against a cut on his forehead. He assumed it was, since each dab stung._

 _"What the..." He opened his eyes, his vision blurry. He realized something other than alcohol was impairing his brain. He slowly recalled a struggle. "What did you give me?"_

 _The woman hushed him again, ignoring his question until he grabbed her wrist. She gasped, her eyes round with concern. As James squeezed the petite wrist, he noticed that the doe-like eyes suddenly changed. Turned cold and harsh._

 _His own eyes widened, recognizing the shift as the same as had occurred when he'd attempted to overpower her once they'd parked outside his base. He hadn't realized the shift before, which to his detriment had led to quite a struggle. One he had apparently lost._

 _"..." The woman glared at him, not making a sound. Instead she grabbed the pinky finger of the hand he held her wrist with, and twisted it. He swore he heard it snap despite the sound of his own shout of pain._

 _"Shit!" He yowled, letting go of her wrist. Realizing that whatever she'd given him wasn't something that numbed pain. On the contrary, it increased it. He cursed again: using every swear he could think of._

 _The woman chuckled after his spiel, and unexpectedly climbed on top of him. She straddled him and bit her lip seductively while looking down at him. "Emmie made a mess of you, didn't she?"_

 _The bizarre question flabbergasted James, and he briefly forgot the pain of his broken pinky. "What?"_

 _"I'm Ana." The woman chuckled, rubbing her thumb over his lip. Her demeanor and the name she gave entirely changed from before. He swallowed, wondering if the woman on top of him was fooling or actually crazy. -_

2015:

James opened his eyes at the sound of his cell opening. After he'd recuperated from his injuries resulting from his psychotic break, he'd been given a new cell. A single, that was in the protective custody ward of the prison.

"You have a visitor." The guard said, standing at the cell's entrance.

James didn't budge and simply narrowed his eyes. There were only a few people who knew he was incarcerated, and most of them were connected to the BAU. And none of them he wished to see.

"Whoever it is, tell them to f- off." James growled and closed his eyes, intent on returning to his dream. It'd been years since he thought about that day, twelve nearly thirteen years ago.

"James." David Rossi replied and stepped into view, having been just beside the guard. "We need to talk."

James scowled.

He glared at Rossi as the man took a step into his cell.

"We need to talk, James. And we can do so either in one of the private visitation rooms or in your cell." Rossi continued after receiving no response aside from a scowl. He took another step further into the cell.

"What do we need to talk about?" James seethed, emphasizing the 'what'. Receiving an answer, no matter how rude or venomous, surprised Rossi. Ever since James had been sentence, the 36 year old had refused to talk to him.

"Actually, we have a lot of things to talk about. Considering everything that's happened and how much we missed out on." Rossi said, taking James not making a direct refusal to speak as a good sign. "But right now we need to talk about Dr. Morland Somerfield."

James drew in a breath, tensing immediately after hearing that name. The next second he tried masking his response with nonchalance. Rossi didn't miss the shift however.

"...He terrifies you." Rossi observed, his gut roiling as he considered what that fear meant. He should've investigated further and not simply stopped when the letter led him to that old lady. Studying James closely, Rossi caught a glimmer of something other than fear. "...you hate Somerfield."

James glowered, his eyes colder than Rossi had ever seen them. The younger man sat up, keeping himself less aloof. "So? What about Somerfield?"

Rossi noted the loathing tone James used when saying the name. "What did he do to you?"

A bitter laugh escaped James lips at the question, and at the same time he shook his head.

"James..."

"I had a calico kitten when I was seven." James said after a moment, side-stepping the question Rossi had asked. "It was a tiny thing, and I took it with me everywhere. Even to sessions with Somerfield..."

James paused, while Rossi listened quietly. He prepared himself for the expected end of James' story: considering James' crimes, it was likely the kitten had met a grisly fate. The amount of care and brutality in how James had mutilated his victims had to have had a precursor.

"...during one session, Kalic, the kitten, scratched Somerfield." James glowered at the memory, paying more attention to it than Rossi. "The very next moment he brought us both to the his lab. Particularly, the dissection area. 'Do it or it'll be you', that's what he said."

Rossi's eyes widened slightly, the story taking an unexpected twist. "Do what?" Rossi prompted after James trailed off into silence, though his gut knew what James meant.

"...he'd brought me there to dissect lab mice before, so I understood what he wanted. But..." James paused, the next second he shook away his hesitance. "Well, he kept me locked up in that lab until I did it. Four long days..."

Rossi felt sickened and angered, though more at Somerfield than at James. There were no signs of deception coming from his son throughout the story. "Somerfield kept you locked up for four days? What about the Wagners? They didn't raise a fuss?" Rossi asked, his anger at the family that'd taken James equal to his toward Somerfield.

"Mo..." James interrupted himself with a head shake, correcting himself. "That bitch Amy Wagner thought I was safer with Somerfield. Away from Kevin Wagner Sr."

Rossi drew in a breath, his gut roiling with anger. "What about the Room with the box? The prison's psychiatrist said you mentioned it after..."

James laughed mirthlessly when Rossi faltered while referring to the former's psychotic break. "That...why should I mention any more to you? Hm? Will you make sure Somerfield and I are in the same prison cell block?"

"No, James." Rossi replied, noting the mixed signs of rage and fear in James' body language.

"Whatever..." James scowled and lied back down on his bed. "I'm done talking to you."

"James..." Rossi said, not budging from where he stood. The younger man continued to ignore him. "James David Rossi, you will listen to what I have to say." Rossi spoke authoriatively, using his son's full name. It felt surreal, not just saying his son's full name but doing so in such a parental manner. And in such a place.

"..."

"I know, you believe I failed you. And...you're right. I failed to see through Dr. Richards' lie, and I keep asking myself how I could've been fooled. How I could not have known you were alive." Rossi drew in a breath, keeping his emotions stable enough to say what he wanted. "I failed as a father. You lived in the same city as Carolyn and I for three years before the Wagners moved. Just one neighborhood away from us. I...I still can't believe how close by you were back then."

Rossi paused, recalling all that Garcia had been able to glean about James' life as Kevin Jr. When he had learned that the Wagners had lived just a few streets away for the first three years of James' life, he'd been stunned anew. So close by, yet he never knew.

"I can't undo what's been done. Or that I failed to protect you. But, I can see to it that those responsible for kidnapping you and those responsible for whatever horrors you went through answer for what they did." Rossi studied his son, knowing that he might not get through to James. But it wasn't just for his son's benefit that he needed to speak. His own psyche needed this. "But, I'm going to need your help. I need to know what you went through, and who else beside Dr. Somerfield and Dr. Connell was involved."

"..." James drew in a slow, deliberate breath. "...you found out about Dr. Connell?"

"Yes." Rossi replied, slowly comprehending something that he should've realized before. "Tobias Connell tricked Dr. Richards into falsifying your death. And Kenneth Connell, Tobias Connell's nephew, revealed your identity to the inmates here to get them to attack you."

James grimaced, closing then opening his eyes before bringing his gaze back to his father.

"Did you know of either Connell? Or was it a coincidence that Dr. Kenneth Connell was working in the same city we found you in?" Rossi asked. "Do you know if he is connected to Dr. Somerfield?"

James stared at Rossi, mulling something over in his thoughts. Should he lie or tell the truth? It occurred to him that lying to his father or just refusing to cooperate would be a terrific way to get back at Rossi. Yet, the cost would be allowing Somerfield and the Connells to get away.

"..." James glowered, his eyes narrowed. After a moment he smirked though without amusement. "...Somerfield never mentioned the Connells, not by name at least. Not around me." He paused, massaging his knuckles, then his recently healed wrist. "But when I was fourteen, I did overhear Somerfield arguing over the phone with a Tobias. Something about Tobias being greedy and doing things on his own again. And that it was too dangerous to keep using twins, despite the benefits."

Rossi drew in a sharp breath. After what happened with the Fletchers and Ms. Kaurich, he knew Connell had taken other children by falsifying their deaths. But the idea of twins being taken boggled his mind. Was it even possible to falsify two deaths at once without being caught?

"Are you sure that's what he said? That they'd taken twins?"

"He said using not taking, but yeah." James replied nonchalantly, while his brain whirled with what else to mention. "...you know, I'll tell you anything you want to know if you put Kenneth Connell in the same room as me..."

"That isn't possible." Rossi mentioned after a moment. "Kenneth Connell was found murdered weeks ago."

"..." James clicked his tongue, surprised by the information. He then laughed.

Rossi inwardly flinched at the delight arising in James after hearing about the younger Connell's death.


	23. When Too Appalled To Stir

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 23:** When Too Appalled to Stir

 _1990:_

 _-"You fool! You'll ruin everything!" The woman dressed in an off-white sun dress shouted down at her. She tried to struggle but the woman held her wrist in a vice-grip._

 _"Momma." She mumbled, eyes widened and red. The expectant blows came, striking her face, arms, and torso - anywhere they could reach. Herself being tiny and the woman an adult, meant those blows could reach any part of her body. The only part not struck was her left wrist: that remained tightly in the woman's grip. "Momma..."_

 _"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" The woman spat, her blows striking more furiously against the tiny child's body. She had switched from her bare hand to a wooden cooking spoon._

 _"Momm..." Tears streamed down the young girl's cheeks as she tried to curl into a fetal position. She'd read about people doing so to protect their more vital organs, also that it was an instinctual position when frightened._

 _She was terrified. Her mother's anger was more intense than usual. It wasn't like those times when her mom had had a bad day or conversation with someone and needed a release, so she hit her. It was worse even than when she'd got whipped for getting an A on a test._

 _"'Omma." She sobbed during the first syllable, making it miss the initial 'm' sound. She shut her eyes tightly, feeling her cheeks stinging. A slimy substance - blood, she realized - oozed copiously from around her right temple and eye. Her lips trembled. -_

2015:

Alsie awoke, her head throbbing. The room she was in saturated with shadow, with heavy curtains on the sole window looking out onto the balcony. She groaned and shut her eyes tightly. Even in such intense darkness, it still felt like her sensitive eyes were being jabbed by light.

 _'Damn.'_ She hissed. It felt like her brain was cleaving and engulfing all sensation with unendurable agony. It was her worst headache in recent months.

Keeping her eyes closed, she moved slowly. Once her feet were on the bedroom floor, she opened her eyes a sliver. She kept them open only a few seconds, but long enough to realize that Shelly must've been over.

Her phone was placed on the charger beside her bed and that morning's paper had been laid underneath it. She sighed, then stilled. Her stomach twisted as she opened her eyes to stare at the date on the newspaper.

"Eight days?" Alsie mumbled to herself, at the same time struggling to recall those missing days. Eight days since her date with Spencer, and she couldn't remember a second after leaving the bookstore. Actually, her memory failed shortly after Shelly had showed up there.

She massaged her head, cursing. Her burnt umber eyes burned from unshed tears building up behind her eyelids. She'd thought she'd gotten rid of the black outs. Though her childhood was plagued by them, the worst being from ages nine to twelve, she had been free of them since seven years ago.

It was the same with the headaches, though those had never gone completely away. She had had them down to a manageable number per year. But ever since the accident three years ago...

She cringed, her lips trembling. Her right hand moved to her abdomen and touched the scar there. The tears slid down her cheeks bidden by an intrusive memory. It was a memory, that even compared to those from her early life, was excruciating. Yet she was grateful her black outs never stole it from her.

She didn't know how she'd live if she couldn't remember the day her daughter was born. Even if it had also been the same day her daughter...

Alsie gasped for breath, choked by sadness. And tears. She threw herself back under the covers, not wishing to do anything. Nothing was mandatory nor important. Sleep and curling into a ball to bypass the day was all she wanted to do.

The beep of her cell phone interrupted her respite. Though it was set on a calming ocean wave tone, it was still unbearable for her migraine. She whimpered and picked it up, determined to put it on silent. Or just shut it off.

 _-U have 2 read this, srly.-_ Shelly's text read, linking to a magazine article online. Alsie narrowed her eyes, about to shut off her phone when another text came in. _-Serious, U have 2 read this. It's abt James!-_

Certain that Shelly wouldn't stop texting until she read the article and replied, Alsie clicked on the link. She wondered why she bothered to get a smart phone - if she hadn't she could give Shel the excuse that she didn't have a computer to look at the article.

Though it had been Shel who paid for the upgrade after accidentally breaking her old cell phone months ago.

 _'Yeah, what...'_ Alsie froze reading the article, her headache and heartache pushed away by shock. Despite it being a poorly written article, containing little information and much conjecture, the facts it did reveal were shocking.

"James, you..." Alsie swallowed, her hand holding the phone trembling. She was shocked and confused. But also terrified. Not of James, but of what she realized would happen. Someone was bound to investigate further, and if she kept quiet and they found out about her...How would she be able to explain things?

She'd already mentioned to Spencer about buying that book for James, though she hadn't used his name, and had told about her daughter...

Trembling yet stable, Alsie dialed Spencer's number.

0

"Our offices will be in touch once we find anything useful pertaining to your case." A man told a young couple, bidding them a polite goodbye. As well as telling them to not be afraid of contacting this law office if they had any questions.

Morland Somerfield looked across the lobby at the man, dressed in a suit, bidding a young couple goodbye. The intensity with which he studied the middle-aged man enough that it engulfed all his attention.

"Excuse me? Mr. Somerfield, was it?" Another, much younger man greeted Somerfield. His arrival distracting the wizened doctor from tracking the other man. The old man scowled when he noticed the man he'd been watching had disappeared further into the building. "Right this way."

"Very well." Somerfield nodded curtly at the young man, who was likely an intern or newly hired assistant going by the part nervousness, part cockiness in his voice. "And it's Dr. Somerfield."

The young man flinched and quickly apologize for his mistake. He led Somerfield to a more private and comfortable waiting area of the law-firm. "I apologize, Dr. Somerfield, Mr. Alvarez is running late, but it shouldn't take much longer. If you'll wait here, he should be only a few minutes."

Somerfield returned a polite reply, though his thoughts were still on the man he'd watched in the lobby. He managed enough awareness of his surroundings to not draw undue concern from the young intern/assistant. At least until the said assistant left the area.

Somerfield stared at his hands, then the briefcase he'd brought with him. A multitude of thought spun through his antique brain. His age may have slowed down his mental ability and thus delayed his course of action, but he knew he was correct.

All the others were accounted for. Every child that he and Connell took, and the recipients of those children checked out. He'd even looked into the birth families of each child switched, just in case one of them had figured out the truth.

He knew where each of the thirty-four children they'd sold were, except for one. One of them had vanished nearly twenty-five years ago. As had the family who Connell had sold her to.

Of course he had hired a detective to track them down years ago, when he'd decided she'd be perfect for his experiments. Only to find out that the family Connell sold the girl to no longer had her. Further, they'd pretended like the child they'd bought never existed.

Somerfield had let the matter drop at that point, figuring that something fatal had happened to the girl and that the Crawfords had covered it up. A couple of the other children he and Connell had sold had been taken by social services or killed by the families who bought them. Since they'd sold the children to questionable people, things like that had been expected.

Except now the baby Connell had sold to the Crawfords was the only one unaccounted for. No record of her existed after the Crawfords had moved out of Nevada. And three years after the Crawfords moved, they too had vanished.

Somerfield glowered as he considered the possibilities. He mentally cursed Connell. Tobias Connell's deal with the Crawfords had been an unplanned thing and the idiot hadn't felt the need to inform Somerfield of it until eight years had passed.

"I apologize for the wait." A man dressed in a suit, who Somerfield surmised was Alvarez, approached. "Dr. Somerfield, I presume? I'm George Alvarez. If you'll just enter my office, we can get to the matter at hand."

Somerfield followed the lawyer, remaining quiet until he was seated inside Alvarez' office and the door was shut.

0

Garcia grumbled at her computer screens. She'd been trying to narrow down specific times and locations that could point them towards other families Tobias Connell had taken babies from, primarily by focusing on when he transferred to other hospitals or received large payments. However, neither proved useful.

Tobias Connell had, as her team surmised, transferred to many different hospitals since the eighties, but none of the transfers coincided with newborns suddenly dying in his care. It was actually the opposite. Throughout his career in obstetrics, he never lost a child during delivery or in hospital afterward. To make things more bizarre was that, though he'd transferred a lot over the years, many of the transfers were to hospitals he previously worked at.

He had had a stunning reputation in obstetrics, having never lost a patient - neither mother nor child during any delivery. Had she not known what Tobias Connell had done, Garcia would've thought he was a miracle worker. But instead she realized that Connell's never losing a child during delivery wasn't a fluke or miracle, but rather evidence to him selling babies to his patients who lost theirs.

The trouble was that Connell had worked in obstetrics for most of his career and had delivered hundreds of babies. To narrow down which ones had been switched and which ones hadn't would be a daunting task. Especially since, until a couple years before his death, he hadn't deposited or received any large sums of money in his bank account.

He hadn't even opened a bank account until three years before his death.

Garcia frowned at her computer screens, desperate for some new search parameter that could lead somewhere. As if on cue, her phone rang.

 _-"Did you find out anything yet, Baby girl?" Morgan asked after exchanging greetings with Garcia.-_

"Aside from the facts that Dr. Tobias Connell literally delivered hundreds of babies throughout his career and that he never had a bank account until three years before he died, I have nothing." Garcia replied.

 _-"Hundreds?" Morgan drew in a sharp breath, his exasperation at the number audible in his voice. "There has to be a way to narrow down which babies he sold from those he didn't. Did you filter out the mothers who lost their babies while under his care?"-_

"There aren't any. According to hospital records, Tobias Connell never lost a baby he delivered. And before you say anything, I already realized that that statistic is highly improbable, if not impossible." Garcia said, fiddling with one of her pink and feathery pens. "I need something to narrow down the list or it's going to be years figuring out which families took home babies bought from Connell and which brought home their real children."

 _-"..." Morgan thought for a moment. "All right, focus on the patients of other doctors who worked at the same hospitals as Connell." He paused while Garcia remarked that that list would be larger than the one they already had. "I know, that's why I'm gonna help you narrow it down. Now, Connell would have to make sure he had someone to buy the babies he stole, so cross off any mothers who gave birth on days that Connell didn't have a patient of his own give birth."-_

"It's still a pretty extensive list." Garcia said after entering in the new parameters.

 _-"Now, since most people wouldn't find it acceptable to buy babies, even if they had just lost their own and that most would try adopting first, narrow down the list of Connell's patients to those who wouldn't be able to adopt. Focus on parents with histories of drug or domestic abuse, or those charged with crimes. Particularly violent crimes or crimes targeting children."-_

"All right, give me a sec." Garcia started typing away, determined to find something. Her eyebrows rose as the number of potential buyers fell considerably. "That narrows it down to forty-nine potential families. Any ideas to narrow it down further?"

 _-Morgan paused, considering things. "How many of those mothers gave birth before the mothers who lost their children? About five or four hours before."-_

"That would be twenty-nine. Well, twenty-seven if we take off the two children we already know Connell sold."

 _-"All right. We probably should question all of those families just in case, but let's try narrowing it down further. Which of those remaining families took out large sums of money - over ten grand - in the weeks after the deliveries?" Morgan replied after recalling how much Ted Gregson said he wrote the check to Connell for.-_

Garcia, at first hopeful to narrow down the list further, grimaced when the money parameter eliminated the remaining families from the list. "None of them. And at least eighteen of those families never had anything higher than two thousand in the bank."

 _-"How about smaller amounts, ranging from hundreds to thousands, spread out over time? Most likely adding up to ten thousand, and likely following a schedule. Withdrawals that didn't exist before the mothers gave birth."-_

"...that narrows it down to...twenty-six families." Garcia replied, struck by there being only one family filtered out with the money parameter.

 _-"Twenty-six?" Morgan gaped and shook his head in disgust. The thought that each of those twenty-six families potentially bought someone else's baby sickened him. He had hoped that Connell hadn't stolen more than a few babies. "All right, baby girl. Send us the list of those twenty-six families."-_


	24. The Soul Has Moments Of Escape

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 24:** The Soul Has Moments of Escape

"Dave, how did it go? Did James say anything about Connell or Somerfield?" Hotch asked once he noticed Rossi entering the BAU bullpen area. The expression on his friend's face gave him pause, and he wondered if having Rossi visit James alone did more harm than good for the senior agent.

Rossi simply glowered at the case board photographs. His dark eyes focusing on Somerfield. He had questioned his son for nearly a hour and forty minutes longer, at first trying to get figure out why James hated Kenneth Connell despite James not knowing the Connells had been behind the switch. When it'd became clear that his son wasn't going to divulge the truth in that regard, Rossi had returned the conversation to Somerfield. Specifically to descriptions of the experiments Somerfield had subjected James to.

"Dave, what is it?" Hotch asked, concerned at just how angry Rossi was. Its intensity spoke towards there being more horrible things done to James than they'd thought.

"We need to get that son of a bitch in here now." Rossi seethed, his glare at the photograph of Morland Somerfield on the case board clarifying who he meant.

"...Garcia is attempting to track his current whereabouts as we speak. He seems to have gone of the grid since missing the flight he'd booked." Hotch looked his friend over. "We did manage to make a list of twenty-six potential families that Tobias Connell sold babies to. Excluding the two we already know about."

"Twenty-six?" Rossi gaped, disbelieving the number. It was difficult to imagine that twenty-six other families had gone through what he and Caroline had, as well as Isabel Kaurich.

"We're bringing them in and getting warrants for DNA tests. Considering that the story about James being switched is already in the media, I thought it best not to wait before bringing those families in." Hotch gave Rossi a look before handing him a folder. "One of the couples are already in prison, on second degree murder charges following the death of their son when he was ten."

"What is it with these people?" Rossi shook his head, frustrated and sickened. "I get being devastated after losing a child and that buying a replacement child could seem plausible under such grief. But to then go on and abuse the child that was a replacement for their own..." Rossi glowered, reading over the file. The dead boy had been severely abused and malnourished at the time of his death.

"I know, Dave. They're treating these children like child predators would. But that isn't surprising, considering that in over half of those twenty-six families at least one parent showed signs of being a pedophile. Mostly it was the men, but two of the women were also accused of molestation."

Rossi swore, enraged anew by the information. The fact that the Connells were dead, and thus outside the reach of law, did nothing to quell his indignation. "What about the rest of the children?"

"Five of the twenty-six had already been taken by child services before we even knew about James. Six others either died of various causes or went missing, two of them after they turned eighteen." Hotch paused, allowing the information to sink in before he continued. "Out of the remaining fourteen, we know of three that weren't abused."

Rossi gave Hotch a skeptical glance.

"In those three cases, the non-abusive parent left the abusive one and took the child with them before they were even a year old."

"Great, so out of twenty-six families, twenty-eight if you count the Wagners and Fletchers, only four families were not abusive." Rossi replied bitingly, his thoughts returning to the Wagners. If only Amy Vaughn had left her husband and taken James with her before he was abused. Perhaps then his reunion with his son would've been a happy occasion, instead of being marred by James' crimes.

"Dave...?"

"Hotch, did any of these twenty-six families have any connection to Somerfield?" Rossi asked.

"...only two of them." Hotch replied after a moment, knowing that this tidbit of info would be unwelcomed to Rossi.

"What? Only two?" Rossi shook his head, flabbergasted. "So that makes only four families who had any connection to Somerfield?

"With a direct connection, yes. But Somerfield did work at a few of the same hospitals as Tobias Connell. They may have had contact with Somerfield through Connell." Hotch paused, studying Rossi after the elder agent glowered again at Somerfield's photograph. "Dave, what is it? What did James say about Somerfield? What did you find out?"

"Enough to know that Morland Somerfield should be in prison more than James." He scowled, shaking his head at what James had told him.

Aside from the kitten incident, James had mentioned more occurrences when he had had to choose between mutilating some creature or being abused himself. He had also mentioned that Amy Wagner had abandoned him to Somerfield when James turned twelve.

"His experimentation wasn't just in sensory or sleep deprivation. That bastard of a doctor experimented in ways to create and reinforce sociopathic behaviors. Particularly violent ones."

Hotch froze. "Somerfield was trying to turn James into a killer?"

"That'd be my guess, based on what James said he went through during his sessions with Somerfield."

"Damn." Hotch mumbled and rubbed his head, his own outrage at what Rossi just told him tempered with new knowledge. Before Rossi could do more than glance at him questioningly, Hotch explained. "After Garcia gave Morgan the list of twenty-six families and victims of Connell's, she returned to searching for other women James may have attacked before New York. She found at least three previous victims that matched his M.O. of rape and enucleation.

Rossi cursed and rubbed his head, the information unwanted but not unexpected. They had profiled that James had likely raped and mutilated before. Which, Rossi realized, made Hotch's angry reaction seem just a tad off. "What is it, Aaron? What happened to these other victims..."

"They were killed."

Rossi felt as though the air in his lungs had been kicked out of him. "You're sure?...they didn't just succumb to their injuries?"

"I'm sorry, Dave. But these three others were deliberately murdered." Hotch handed Rossi the files pertaining to the newly uncovered victims. "Two were killed around eleven years ago. One just four years ago."

"They're all brunettes." Rossi commented, while leafing through the files. He recalled how Spencer had profiled that James had deliberately chosen his most recent victims to not match his type. "With brown eyes..."

Rossi paused as he read the files, particularly the dates. He looked back at Hotch.

"Is this right? These three women were raped and mutilated within days of each other thirteen years ago?"

"And the murders didn't start until two years later. Which means that it's possible that they were killed by someone else, but since all three were killed the same way, we need to consider the possibility that their rapes were connected with their murders." Hotch paused. "I know we didn't profile James as a killer, but..."

"He isn't." Rossi countered. "Not deliberately."

"Dave. We may not have profiled James as a killer, but we also didn't profile him as being at risk for a psychotic break..."

"No, Aaron." Rossi shook his head, mulling over the files. "All right. I'm not saying it's impossible, but I'm quite sure James wouldn't kill his victims. He views death as a surcease. An escape from pain. Killing his victims, especially after making sure they lived through the torture, would be too merciful. He would only kill a victim if he cared about her in some way."

Hotch paused, considering Rossi's reasoning. It did make sense, though it meant James profiled as a sadist. One that wanted his victims to suffer and to continue to suffer. "Dave..."

"I know, Aaron." Rossi interrupted, not needing the younger man to say any more. He was still coming to terms with what his son did, and would likely do again if James was ever released. He was certain however, that James hadn't targeted any of his victims in order to kill them.

"...Did James mention anything about Dr. Connell?" Hotch asked in an effort to draw the conversation away from uncomfortable truths. Despite wanting to believe Rossi was correct that James hadn't been the one to kill those three women, he couldn't ignore the facts.

"...he despises the Connells." Rossi replied, recalling how James had laughed when told Kenneth Connell had been killed. "Kenneth Connell specifically.

"Did he say why?" Hotch asked after considering Rossi's answer.

Rossi shook his head, and turned away from the photo of Somerfield. "James avoided answering why."

"Dave..." Hotch began.

"Tobias Connell and Somerfield did know each other. James had overheard them arguing years ago over the phone. Mainly about Tobias Connell being greedy." Rossi paused, still angry at Somerfield but placing his focus on what James had said. "Dr. Connell apparently did some free-lancing with their kidnapping scheme and Somerfield wasn't happy about it."

"That could explain why Tobias Connell was murdered fifteen years ago." Hotch surmised. "He got greedy, possibly to the point of risking exposure, and Somerfield either killed him or had him killed."

"There's more. Tobias Connell had a preference for twins, according to what James had overheard of the conversation."

"Twins?" Hotch scrunched up his brow in thought, thinking the same thing Rossi had when the latter first heard that info. "I imagine falsifying the deaths of twin newborns would be more likely to raise suspicion than doing so with a single birth."

"That was my thought as well." Rossi sat down, rubbing his brow. "But James insisted that was what he heard. Though...he insisted Somerfield's complaint was Connell 'using' twins, not 'taking' them.'"

Hotch paused, considering the older man's revelation. "I'll have Garcia check into whether any of the twenty-six children taken were one of a pair of twins."

0

It was an old two-story house. Much of it in disrepair, though the previous owner seemed to have had attempted to restore it. But that was at least twenty years ago. Perhaps longer, going by the amount of overgrowth in the front and back yards.

No one had been around to trim the hedges or the grass in years. Nor were there any recent attempts to repaint the siding or repair the shattered windows. The atmosphere alone could inspire ghost stories. Though that wasn't why she was here.

Nor was she here because she wanted to be. It was more than that. It'd been necessary to come to this moldy abode, despite her hatred of it - the architecture and remoteness of the house were horrid to her. But it was because of the past that she hated it.

The past was a haunting thing, and she had to find out. Even if she had to scour the place or tear through the floorboards. She needed to know. What had happened to the child? Until she knew what had happened, she couldn't bring herself to write the letter she needed to. What closure would her confession bring, if she had no idea what had happened to the child she'd raised for eight years?

Leah Clemens shivered as she climbed up the porch, the stairs creaking beneath her feet. Her pale blonde hair, with a streak of gray on the side, fluttered briefly in a passing breeze. She swallowed and opened the door, surprised that the hinges weren't fully rusted. Though the seller had mentioned this house had been used by local kids as a hang out, so perhaps they kept the door in workable condition.

 _-Momma. Momma.-_

She froze, her breath catching. A memory from twenty-five years ago surfaced in her brain. The house had looked much better back then, having been owned by an old couple with a thirty year old grandson who helped out. They'd been some sort of distant relative, or perhaps friends of a distant relative. She couldn't really remember.

"...Leigh." Leah sighed, her eyes burning from the dust build-up inside the foyer. It'd been years and years since she stepped foot in this town, let alone this house. Since the moment she left the child here twenty-five years ago, she had acted as though this house and even this town didn't exist.

She had honestly felt justified back then. Leaving the child with a family that could raise her and not have to live a lie. While she, with her husband and son, could live like a family elsewhere. No longer holding evidence of a huge mistake.

Leah grimaced. Her hands shaking as her tired eyes roamed over her dusty surroundings. So much time had passed. The middle-aged couple had died, and their son had moved out. And the little girl...

She swallowed, her eyes teary but whether from dust or regret was difficult to discern. All she knew was that the girl had vanished after the couple died.

"Leigh..."


	25. The Brain, Within Its Groove

_A/N: Some one asked this in a review so: Alsie's name is pronounced like L.C or AL.C (it is a nickname from the name she gave when she and Spencer met as children. ( Adrienne Leigh Crawford))._

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 25:**

Spencer darted to the far end of the cafe. His brown eyes searching for Alsie - just little over an hour ago he'd received a voicemail from her, requesting to meet at this cafe. It was a different one than they'd met at before, but it'd been close enough that he decided to meet her.

He rounded the back corner of the cafe, entering into a quiet alcove. Bookshelves lined the walls that didn't house tables. Once or twice he'd visited this cafe, drawn to it by its quiet atmosphere. Even during the busy morning hours, this place was known for its library type quiet.

This cafe catered to customers who preferred to drink their coffee quietly, without the distractions of technology or conversation. It'd been enjoyable, the times he'd visited, but the distance between this cafe and the metro line he took to work prevented him from getting his morning coffee from here.

Spencer's brow furrowed when he noticed that none of the occupied seats held Alsie. Nor was Shelly around. Alsie had mentioned she'd be here until two pm, which was still a few hours away. He wondered if perhaps she was using the restroom.

Deciding that that was likely, Spencer picked a seat next to two bookshelves. He sat, taking one of the books from the closer shelf, and started reading. It was while he read that he heard a door nearby open, and someone mumbling about going on break.

The sound of the voice drew his attention despite the pattern of speech being different.

"Oh, hey." Alsie slipped into the seating area, a door marked employees only closing behind her. She noticed Spencer the same moment he noticed her.

"You work here?" Spencer asked, standing up. His surprise morphed into concern when Alsie simply looked at him quietly. "Alsie?"

He blinked when she grabbed hold of his arm. The gesture sudden and without prompting. Though it was generally an innocuous action, despite his preference against physical contact with people, the action itself didn't seem like Alsie.

"Al..." Before he could voice his concern or protest against the gesture, Alsie kissed him. Standing on tiptoe to comfortably reach his lips, Alsie pressed herself snugly against him.

She continued the embrace, even as Spencer backed a step after the initial surprise.

"Alsie...I..." Spencer stammered once he broke away from the petite woman's lips. Within seconds his protest was cut off by another kiss, this one lasting 2.7 seconds longer than the first.

Spencer shook his head and gently, but firmly pushed Alsie away from kissing him again. His own cheeks were slightly pink. He cleared his throat before addressing Alsie again.

"You said you wanted to talk." Spencer mumbled, his thoughts brimming with a mix of confusion and intrigue. "Alsie..."

"Ana, not Alsie." The petite brunette chuckled. Spencer's eyes widened, surprised. He suddenly understood the reason behind this drastic change in Alsie's demeanor. "Alsie isn't here."

Spencer started to respond, then stopped. His eyes once more studied her, his observations meshing with what Shelly had told him about Alsie. Her dissociative identity disorder...

He breathed in deeply as he considered how to respond. Alsie, or rather Ana, continued trying to get physically closer. Her eyes caught his: their hue and shape were unchanged but the expression was seductive and flirty rather than demure.

"Um, no. We should sit." Spencer mumbled after Alsie-Ana tried kissing him again. He gently pushed her onto a chair while he took a seat across from her. His brain was jumbled with thought, the most prominent of which was that he'd just been kissed by the alter of the woman he was dating. And he had started reciprocating the kiss before remembering they were in a cafe.

"Come on. She won't find out." Alsie-Ana crooned and leaned across the table. She smiled seductively and trailed a finger over Spencer's hand.

"Uh, um." Spencer tittered and pulled his arms off of the table. He met Alsie-Ana's eye. "I...I probably should go. Um..."

"Oh? But Alsie's gonna be so disappointed if you're not here when she comes back." Alsie-Ana leaned further forward, trailing her tongue over her lip. She grabbed for Spencer's shirt but he pulled himself just out of reach.

"Sorry, Al...Ana, I, um...I should go..." Spencer stood up and headed toward the exit: while he knew what sort of things to say to handle the situation and perhaps help Ana switch back to Alsie, he was confused emotionally. Actually, he was conflicted by the thought of using the same techniques he used with unsubs with Alsie.

Alsie-Ana watched silently as Spencer left, her flirty smile turning into a pout. It took only a few seconds longer for her to decide to follow after him.

"Hey, wait up." She called as she caught sight of Spencer. He had slowed down, already regretting leaving so quickly. Not because he wanted to be subjected to Alsie-Ana's flirtation, though it wasn't unenjoyable, but rather because of Alsie's alter saying Alsie would be disappointed.

Spencer sighed, turning around to meet Alsie-Ana. The sensation of her lips on his still lingered, as did the feeling of her body pressed against his. It confused him. And, each second he noted that Alsie was still Ana, he felt guilty. It may have physically been Alsie kissing him, but it wasn't Alsie mentally.

"Hi. Ana." Spencer mumbled, still debating whether to hurry off or to stick around. His emotions were jumbled, leaving little room for rational thought.

The one thing he did know was that he wasn't about to let Ana kiss him again. Not that he didn't like Alsie, it was just awkward thinking of her alter personality Ana kissing him. His cheeks reddened again, thinking about it.

"Hey. You're really cute." Alsie-Ana crooned, closing the physical space between them. Spencer smiled nervously, and wordlessly moved his messenger bag so that it was between the two of them. He knew it was a trifle action that wouldn't actually do much in inhibiting Alsie's alter, but it made him feel slightly less uncomfortable.

"Uh, Ana, would it be possible to talk with Alsie?" Spencer asked, at the same time leading the way toward a bench on the outer edge of a small park. "She left me a voicemail, and it seemed really urgent. She needed to talk to me about something."

Alsie-Ana pouted, once again getting rebuffed when she attempted to move closer to Spencer. She turned away from him, pouting cutely. The next moment she turned back toward him, smiling coyly.

Spencer fidgeted with his messenger bag, feeling confused. His confusion stemmed from the conflicting sensations of being comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. Ana's flirting made him uncomfortable, but other than that he felt fine.

"I'd really like to speak with Alsie, Ana." Spencer spoke softly. "She sounded really upset in her voicemail."

"That's because of that magazine article." Alsie-Ana leaned back on the bench, her body still turned toward Spencer. The way he fidgeted each time she attempted to flirt or get closer to him was adorable. She grinned, and reached out to caress Spencer's cheek.

"Ah, no. Um..." Spencer avoided the caress by grabbing Alsie-Ana's hand and holding it at bay. He blinked, realizing that he'd just done what he'd consistently avoided doing if possible. Grabbing someone's bare hand. He grimaced, thinking about the amount of germs that would spread, had likely already spread, just from holding Alsie-Ana's hand.

It was the trade-off however, to prevent Alsie-Ana from touching his cheek. Taking in a breath, Spencer kept his hand around Alsie's, finding it less objectionable than her caressing his cheek. Perhaps if Alsie was Alsie and not Ana...

"Um, what magazine article?" Spencer asked, looking at Alsie-Ana in order to take his focus off his discomfort. The petite woman didn't respond, but simply stared down at his hand holding hers. "Um, Ana...?"

Spencer's eyes widened as he felt the hand he held tremble, and they widened further as he noticed the tears falling down Alsie's cheeks.

"Al..."

"...James." Alsie whispered, her gentle tone indicating that her alter wasn't in control anymore. Realizing the next moment who was next to her, Alsie gasped and stared at Spencer. Her surprise and confusion spoke volumes.

"Alsie, hello." Spencer greeted, relieved that Ana was gone, but concerned at the tears running down Alsie's cheeks. He gave a small smile, squeezing Alsie's hand slightly in a comforting gesture. The amount of time he'd already spent holding Alsie's hand, coupled with his concern over her emotional shift, allowed him to continue holding her hand.

"Hello. Um, I..." Alsie smiled demurely. Noticing that Spencer's hand was holding hers, she pulled away slightly. Not enough to break the grip, but enough that Spencer reacted in similar fashion. The result being that the hand-hold broke. "You got my voicemail."

"...Yes." Spencer replied, this time reaching his hand toward Alsie's cheek. He wanted to wipe away her tears, unable to endure seeing her upset.

Alsie, however, turned away and took out an embroidered cloth handkerchief. It was made of very soft material and she used it to wipe her cheeks. Spencer smiled sadly, but didn't fuss. Instead he glanced across the small park.

"...you're probably wondering why I left a voicemail. And how I must've sounded..." Alsie sighed, wringing the handkerchief she held nervously.

"Yeah. It was disconcerting. You wanted to...talk to me about something." Spencer replied, suddenly feeling uneasy as the name Alsie had whispered after returning to herself meshed with the other information he'd gleaned.

Mainly how Alsie had mentioned buying a copy of Rossi's book for someone while they were on their date, and now how Ana had mentioned a magazine article.

"Alsie. Um, did you read an article about what happened with David Rossi's son James?" Spencer asked tentatively, not knowing whether he wanted his deduction to be correct or not. The way Alsie gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes tearing again, answered for her.

Spencer swallowed, staggered at the revelation. He didn't know what he felt. His breath caught as he remembered what else Alsie had told him.

"...your daughter, her father was...James?"

"Yes." Alsie whispered, nodding while dabbing her cheeks gently with her handkerchief.

Spencer drew in a breath, his thoughts running rampant as he considered what to do. This was something he couldn't keep from Rossi, though he wondered how the older man would take it. It would've been much different if Alsie's and James' daughter was alive, since having a new grandchild would be a positive outcome for Rossi.

"Um, may I ask how you found out who James was? Did he tell you?" Spencer asked, brow furrowed.

Alsie shook her head. "James knew those who raised him weren't his parents, but he didn't know who his real parents were. I...I noticed the similar facial characteristics between him and David Rossi, while looking at one of Rossi's books. A little research revealed that James was born the same day as Rossi's son, so..." Alsie paused, swallowing as she searched through her recollection. "James didn't care about pursuing it, but I...I went to a book signing and snagged a bottle Rossi had drunk from."

"...and you tested the DNA against James." Spencer concluded and sighed.

"Yes." Alsie answered softly. She stared down at her hands, picking at the edges of her handkerchief. Her burnt umber eyes were reddened with tears. She swallowed, her brow furrowed as she thought about something. "Spencer...hm, back when we met as children. That chess match we had, you remember?"

"Of course, I have an eidetic memory. And as I recall, neither of us were winning. Actually we were close to a stalemate..." Spencer replied, slightly thrown off by Alsie suddenly changing the topic.

"Yeah. We were interrupted." Alsie replied, her conflicted expression hidden by her hair and their height difference even when sitting.

Spencer's eyes narrowed as he considered Alsie. He remembered that occasion clearly, ever since he discarded whatever emotional block that had prevented him from remembering Alsie as a child.

"I remember your mother suddenly showed up and pulled you away." Spencer said, twisting his cheek as he thought. "I still don't get why she did that. Or why she said what she did afterwards. She referred to me as 'that boy.'" He grimaced, just as perplexed now about Alsie's mother as he'd been as a child. He wondered if that woman had been like that with every one Alsie had met growing up. "Did she ever give a reason why she disliked me? Or did she just not like you having friends?"

Alsie took a few moments before answering. She fidgeted but otherwise remained composed, and as she replied she met Spencer's gaze. "She never said."

Spencer was about to respond, more questions forming in his thoughts, when Alsie stood up abruptly. She mumbled something about work and needing to head back.

When Spencer started to protest and insist they still needed to speak to Rossi about Alsie's connection to James, Alsie paused. She glanced back at Spencer, her lips trembling.

"What good would it do?" She whispered, her eyes searching Spencer's.

"I..." Spencer hesitated. He thought himself about how Rossi would react to Alsie and finding out that he could've had a grand-daughter. "I don't know. But I think Rossi has a right to know. And since I now know about this, I don't think I can keep it secret." Spencer paused, leaning forward on the bench so he was gazing up at Alsie. "I understand if you can't tell him yourself, but he should know."

Alsie drew in a breath, her lip trembling. She closed her eyes, unable to answer despite knowing that Spencer was right. It wasn't until Spencer grabbed her hand, and cradled it gently in his, that she managed to answer.

"All right. But give me a few days, please?" Alsie's voice was quieter than Spencer ever heard it. She seemed so fragile that Spencer quickly agreed, and allowed her to slip her hand away. He watched wordlessly as she headed back toward the cafe.

 **Chapter End:**

 **A/N:** Reviews are highly appreciated (^v^)

I plan to have the next chapter up by the end of the week.

(As long as I don't start rewriting the next few chapters again...I had up to chapter thirty completed, but then couldn't figure out how to proceed, so I ended up rewriting ch 26 and on, so now I only have up to ch 27 written.)


	26. Runs Evenly And True

_A/N: In case people were confused by previous chapter: Alsie has dissociative identity disorder, and as seen in the previous chapter, 'Ana' is the name of (one of) Alsie's alters._

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 26:**

Spencer, his messenger bag draped over his shoulder, entered the BAU. His eyes quickly noted that his team wasn't in the bullpen and that the door to the conference room was shut. He briefly wondered if he should enter as he was still on medical leave for another day and his team obviously had a case.

He didn't have to wonder long as the door to the conference room soon opened. He watched as each of his team exited the room. He noticed each of them had a bit of a dour expression, which brightened when they noticed him waiting quietly.

"Reid! It's so great to see you!" Garcia hurried up to Spencer and gave him a hug before he could respond.

"Hey now, pretty boy. We weren't expecting you back for another day." Morgan greeted.

"Yeah, well I just thought I'd check in." Spencer replied, glancing at Rossi. His thoughts filled with whether to tell the older agent himself about what Alsie said. Though Alsie had agreed that they should tell Rossi about her and James, she had requested to wait a few days. "...How's the investigation been going?"

The looks and sighs shared between the other members if his team were answer enough to his question. His eyebrows rose and he chewed his lip in thought.

"Not good?" He asked, his tone tentative. Spencer's eyes followed Rossi as the man excused himself and headed to his office. After greeting Spencer Hotch followed after Rossi.

"...so far, we found a potential twenty-six other children switched and sold by Tobias Connell. Going back to the mid to late seventies." JJ replied, her lips pulled taut in frustration as she thought about the children.

"That many?" Spencer frowned, his eyebrows raised. He listened as JJ, Lewis, and Morgan filled him in on what they'd discovered about the families so far. As well as about the fates of the children. He grimaced upon hearing that most had been abused, and a few possibly killed by the families who'd bought them. "That's horrible."

"Horrible is an understatement. Tobias Connell seemed to have specifically chosen abusive families as buyers for the babies he stole." JJ shook her head, her arms crossed.

"What's more distressing is that we're sure there are more victims we haven't found." Lewis added.

"What makes you sure there are more?" Spencer asked, placing both his coffee and messenger bag down on his desk.

"Because none of the victims we uncovered have been twins." Morgan replied, continuing before Spencer could do more than knit his brow in curiosity. "Rossi questioned James this morning, and apparently Somerfield had had an argument with Tobias Connell about taking or using twins. That it was too dangerous to continue doing."

"That would be riskier. Falsifying the deaths of two newborns from the same parents would be more likely to raise suspicions. If Connell did that, he would've likely been found out years ago and arrested."

"That was our thought as well. So we looked into the possibility of Connell taking one twin and leaving the other with its birth family." Lewis spoke.

"That would make it safer for Connell. Twin births have a higher infant mortality rate than single births, so the death of a twin newborn would be less likely to draw suspicion." Spencer replied, grimacing the next moment as he pondered things. "Actually, as long as Connell refrained from taking identical twins, it would be less risky to falsify a death in a multiple birth than a single birth pregnancy. Assuming the pregnancies were full term."

"Most of the twenty-six were preterm or had low birth weights despite being full-term." JJ mentioned, arms still crossed. Next to her, Lewis handed Spencer a folder containing the information they'd complied so far.

"That's strange. Connell's choosing newborns that had a greater risk of infant mortality shows he took precautions to hide his scheme, so one would assume he would've taken a twin or triplet at some point. But the twenty-six were all single births?" Spencer asked, his brow knitting after reading the file.

"Maybe Connell or Somerfield thought the risk of accidentally choosing from a pair of identical twins was too great to attempt?"

Spencer shook his head. "They'd just have to choose from twins with opposite genders since the chances of such twins having identical DNA is statistically low."

"Wouldn't having the same DNA be impossible then? Such twins would be fraternal rather than identical, right?"

"Actually, there are certain conditions, typically resulting from errors in the duplication of the x or y chromosomes when the zygote splits, where twins can be born with identical DNA but be of opposing genders." Spencer interrupted Morgan, correcting the other agent's assumption. "There are also conditions where one can present as the gender opposite of what their DNA reflects, which is typically the result of being immune to one of the hormones that are involved in developing said gender..."

"...okay, okay, I stand corrected." Morgan stopped Spencer from continuing in his spiel of interesting but not quite relevant factoids. "But it's still strange why we haven't found evidence of Connell selling a twin despite what Rossi found out from James."

"James could've been lying to Rossi..." JJ brought up, side-glancing toward Rossi's office door. He and Hotch appeared to be discussing something.

"Or maybe Connell did take twins but didn't sell them." Spencer said, an idea occurring to him. "If the motive behind Somerfield's sensory deprivation on James was scientific experimentation, then Somerfield likely experimented similarly on other children. And using twins would actually be more useful because of the similar or possibly identical DNA. And it'd be especially true if he kept tabs on the twin left with the birth parents. He could compare the two and measure the effects of his experiments."

"Seriously?" Morgan gaped, his expression reflected on the other two agents' faces.

"It would be illegal human experimentation, but historically there have been documented cases of experiments done on twins, especially over the past century." Spencer paused for a moment, thinking. "Somerfield may have been influenced by such documented cases."

"We've profiled Connell's primary motivation being money. So if he and Somerfield were partners, he may have given Somerfield any twins he took as payment for Somerfield's help or silence." Lewis replied.

"That would mean that any twin that was reported to have died while Connell was working in obstetrics at the same hospital was possibly given to Somerfield." Morgan grimaced, sickened anew by Connell and Somerfield's scheme. It meant they had a potentially longer list of infants to look into, without a clear view of where each ended up.

"...you mentioned Rossi talked to James," Spencer spoke after a few moments of silent thought. "Did he find out any more information about James' life?" Spencer was about to specify 'over the past five or ten years', but decided not to. He had promised Alsie to wait a few days before telling his team about her and James.

JJ, Morgan, and Lewis shared an uncomfortable look before replying to Spencer's question. The latter's eyes widened at the revelation of the other experiments done on James as well as the team's discovery of other women possibly victimized by James.

"Do you think it's possible that James murdered them?" Spencer asked his team after hearing about the victims being killed years after the rapes.

"We don't know. It's possible, but he went through a lot of effort to keep them alive when he raped and enucleated them. To kill them years after the initial assault doesn't make sense. Even as a forensic countermeasure, since no DNA or fingerprints were found after the rapes."

"Further, Rossi and Hotch both think James would've kept his victims alive as a form of torture rather than kill them and alleviate their suffering." Lewis continued after Morgan left off, the latter distracted by Rossi's office door opening.

"That's consistent with what he did in western New York." Spencer spoke, facing away from Rossi's office so he didn't notice the door open nor Rossi and Hotch heading toward the bullpen. "The only victim that died did so because she fell into the river. James..."

"Spence." JJ interrupted, and prompted Spencer to turn around and notice Rossi's approach.

"Oh!" Spencer's eyes widened as he saw Rossi, the older man having been close enough to overhear him. He knew Rossi would understand that discussing James was part of the job, but that didn't make it any less uncomfortable. "Rossi..."

"It's all right." Rossi said after a moment, though it was clear his concentration was elsewhere. Before anyone could ask what was up, Hotch spoke.

"While Rossi and I were talking, the director called. We've been ordered off the Somerfield and Connell case." The protests started immediately after Hotch finished speaking.

"Why? We've just uncovered most of Connell's victims. And it's possible there are more out there."

"They can't just take us off the case..."

"I understand. It's just there are cases piling up, and the director wants our focus on them. Other agents are being sent to question the families that bought children from Connell." Hotch paused. "I've been assured that once Somerfield is located, we'll be allowed to bring him in and question him."

"But Hotch..."

"I understand. We put a lot into this case and we uncovered a lot of victims of Connell's and Somerfield's scheme. And I know none of us wants to leave this case unfinished. But until Somerfield resurfaces or uncover a clue to his whereabouts, the only thing we can do is question the families involved. Both those who bought the children and those the children were taken from." Hotch paused, glancing at his team. "The higher ups believe that is something that can be left to other agents."

"So we're just gonna drop the case? Hotch, that's..."

Rossi stepped forward, interrupting Morgan's protest. "Trust me, there's nothing I want more than to find Somerfield. But questioning over fifty families - both those who bought children and those whose children were taken - will take a lot of time and travel. At least two of the victimized families live abroad, the rest are scattered across the country."

"So we just wait and work on other cases in the meantime?"

"Until we get some new information, or Somerfield is located, there's not much we can do."

0

Nursing her drink, her blond hair styled so that the locks had a slight bounce, Shelly glanced across the bar room. It was still in the early stages of the evening, with the sky outside a reddish orange as the sun sunk in the horizon. She had text Alsie earlier about perhaps making tonight a girls night out, but Alsie had declined.

That didn't stop Shelly from deciding to go out herself.

Her eyes roamed over the filling bar room, and lingered on a sandy-haired man in a business suit. It didn't take long for her to catch the man's eye, smiling at him the moment his eyes met hers.

Picking up on her body language the man approached the bar and ordered her another drink.

"I haven't seen you here before." The man said, a hunger in his gaze as he studied her. He sat down on the bar stool next to her, watching as she sipped at the rest of her drink.

"That's cuz I don't usually drink. Tonight's a special occasion." Shelly replied, starting on the drink the man had ordered for her.

"Oh? What sort of special occasion?" The man asked, ordering a drink for himself. His hungry eyes still locked on Shelly's face.

"Once it reaches midnight, it'll be my cousin's birthday. We were like sisters." Shelly mumbled, and stared down at her drink. The gleam in her eyes enigmatic.

"Were?" The man asked, catching onto the tinge of sadness in Shelly's voice. He asked if Shelly's cousin had died.

"Depends on who you ask." She mumbled while taking another drink from her glass. She watched the man pick up his own glass out of the corner of her eye. He paused however, briefly confused. She smiled. "You see, her parents died when we were ten, so she went to live with her paternal grandmother. We didn't meet again until we were adults. By that time she was a different person."

"That must've sucked. But people change, and you have to find new friends." The man leaned closer to Shelly, who shook her head.

"You don't get it." She mumbled, but didn't elaborate. Instead she finished her drink and smiled at the man. "How about we go somewhere and you help me forget about such things?" She crooned, her eyes and body language enticing the man into complying.

 **Chapter End:**

 **A/N:** I rewrote this chapter quite a bit, and I still don't know if I like it 100 percent. I hope it's all right. It's getting more difficult to write this story to lead to the plot I wanted for Alsie.


	27. But Let a Splinter Swerve

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 27:** But Let A Splinter Swerve

Shelly smirked, staring into the sandy-haired man's eyes. Her own were cold as the man fell back on the bed, his expression frozen in shock. Her gaze moved from the man's face to the watch he wore - six minutes past midnight.

"Sweet dreams." Shelly whispered, and removed the needle she had poked into the man's arm. The unlucky man had thought it was drugs: 'something to make them both feel better', she had told him as she'd pierced the needle into his vein.

She hadn't told him it was tetrodotoxin, a poison more deadly than cyanide.

Wiping off the needle before placing it on the bedside table, Shelly took a moment to view her victim again. Unlike her previous victim, this one was so much more satisfying. She hadn't had the chance to linger over Jeremy Yaegar when she'd poisoned him in that club.

So this one she planned on enjoying.

"Shhh." Shelly straddled the dead man's chest and pulled out a small pair of scissors from her purse. Her eyes icy as she made the first cut.

0

A Few Days Later:

Spencer fidgeted, Alsie standing with him in the elevator as they headed up to the BAU. Four days had passed since the petite brunette had told him about her connection to James, and Spencer had finally convinced her that Rossi should be told.

"...do you think he'll be angry?" Alsie whispered, fingering her visitor's badge nervously. It was the first thing she'd said since she agreed to go meet with Rossi. She grabbed Spencer's hand as she did so and shyly looked up at him.

Spencer blinked, thrown off by the unexpected touch. He glanced down at her, reading her demure and anxious expression easily. It was enough that he stopped himself from pulling his hand away. Instead he squeezed hers gently, hoping she would understand it to mean not to worry.

"...I..." Alsie started to say something further, but faltered as the elevator reached their floor. Immediately they both broke the hand-hold as the elevator doors opened.

"This way." Spencer said, leading Alsie towards where Rossi's office was. Just before meeting up with Alsie that morning, he had called Rossi and asked if they could meet before work officially started. He hadn't told the senior agent what he wanted to talk about, only that there was someone who had to speak with him.

Spencer paused, his brow knitted as he saw Hotch leaving Rossi's office, the latter not far behind.

"Reid, good, you're here. Head to the conference room, we just got a case..." Hotch spoke as he noticed Spencer, pausing once he noticed Alsie behind the younger agent. He gave Spencer a questioning look. "Who is this?"

Before Spencer could respond, Rossi noticed Alsie.

"You..." Rossi froze, feeling a mix of surprise, shock, and disbelief as he recognized Alsie. It had been years, but once he saw her face and the timid smile, he remembered her. It'd been she who had been the one at the book signing, not James as he had assumed. "You're the one who asked me to sign that book for James..."

Alsie grimaced as Hotch and Rossi both stared at her, with Hotch becoming more intrigued after hearing what Rossi's said. Her hand twitched, and she wished briefly that she had delayed this meeting for a day or so more. Or that the elevator had taken longer to reach this floor.

"Um, this is Al - um, Allison Schmidt." Spencer spoke up, drawing some of the attention away from Alsie. He sensed her discomfort at being the focus of the two other agents' attentions. "She's here to talk about James..."

Hotch, upon realizing the situation, suggested that Rossi and Alsie speak privately in Rossi's office. He then motioned for Spencer, who seemed reluctant to leave Alsie's side, to stay back.

"I should go with..."

"Reid." Hotch interrupted Spencer, while the younger agent watched Alsie and Rossi head off to talk. "Please explain exactly who that was and how you know her. And how she knows about James."

0

Rossi stared across the room at the petite woman. The moment he had set eyes on her, he'd recognized her. It had been her who'd been at the book signing years ago, and it had been her who got him to sign that book for James.

He suddenly felt better at not having recognized James at that book signing - there'd been no one to recognize. This woman, Allison Schmidt, had been the one he met that day, not James.

"You're Allison - Alsie Schmidt?" Rossi began, his eyes roaming over her face at the same moment he remembered what Spencer had confided in him about. It was so many weeks ago, back before they discovered James. And though it had slipped his mind, he remembered Spencer talking about an Allison.

"...yes." Alsie replied, though only after a brief pause. "I'm Alsie. Um... I'm sorry." She added the last bit quietly, and glanced up at Rossi. "I should've told you back at the book signing, but I...I wasn't sure and then it didn't seem important to James, so I...I..."

"Wait...slow down." Rossi interrupted after Alsie started talking fast, and without explaining the most important thing. "First, explain to me how you know my son, James?"

"Oh, um...he and I, dated...until three years ago." Alsie replied, crossing her arms. Her eyes were mostly hidden from Rossi's view by their height difference as well as strands of Alsie's hair that refused to remain tucked behind her ear.

Rossi recalled that she had had it styled the same way at the book signing years ago, and that her demeanor had been reserved and quiet.

"You dated James?" Rossi asked, bewildered. Not because he didn't believe her, but rather it was difficult to imagine, knowing what James was. Though it wasn't impossible that his son had had a relationship with someone.

Rossi glanced over Alsie's brown hair and eyes, as well as her petite frame - this woman before him matched James' victim type in every way. It seemed bizarre that James hadn't made Alsie a victim, but had instead dated her.

"Yes. For around eight almost nine years." Alsie mumbled, her crossed arms gesture loosening. Rather she dropped them and folded her hands together in front of her abdomen. Having averted her gaze to her hands as she'd spoke, she once more shifted it back to Rossi. "I..."

"It's all right, I'm not going to snap at you." Rossi reassured her, then took a moment to think. His thoughts jumbled as he tried to reconcile what he knew of James' criminal profile with Alsie's revelation. There was one possibility that came to him as he fixated on how closely this woman matched James' victim type. "I just want to understand some things...you started dating James in...?"

"Near the end of 2003...until mid 2012." Alsie replied. She hesitated, her hands still clasped together in front of her stomach. Part of her wanted to simply tell Rossi everything, including what happened three years ago. She bit her inside cheek.

Rossi's eyebrows rose, the suspicion he had partly confirmed by that time-frame as well as the fact they hadn't found any victims matching James' M.O for that same time period. James had stopped his assaults for those years because he had found a target he'd decided to keep.

"A..." Rossi opened his mouth to question Alsie further, but he stopped. Though there were more questions to ask to understand his son's criminal profile, he couldn't ask them. He didn't want to know more, nor did he want to question Alsie such personal questions. Especially since she was clearly very uncomfortably.

"...you had a grand-daughter." Alsie blurted out before Rossi could fathom another question. He simply stared at Alsie, dumbfounded by the information. It took a few moments before he managed to respond.

"Grand-daughter? I..." Rossi fumbled over his words, the idea of a grand child the first joyful thing to come out of this whole situation. His shock nearly gave way to exuberance until Alsie's verb choice struck him. "...wait, I 'had' a grand daughter?"

"...she...she..." Alsie faltered, gasping while trying to hold back a sob. Her eyes red and moist from tears that fell despite her trying to hold them back. She wrapped her arms around herself and sat down, the painful memories of three years ago engulfing her thoughts.

Rossi felt his stomach clench, understanding Alsie's painful expression. It mirrored that of Carolyn, and himself, when they had been told James had died. That same devastation.

He took in a deep, steadying breath and tried to respond. Only to be thrown off when Alsie winced and touched her right temple. It lasted less than a second, after which she shook her head slightly as though to flick aside whatever had made her wince.

It had the reversed effect however, and she suddenly hissed in pain and covered her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Rossi asked, momentarily bewildered. Not simply because of the suddenness if the pain, which he was sure was genuine, but because for the briefest of moments it reminded him of someone. Just as quickly that recognition vanished, replaced by concern.

"..." Alsie mumbled something, her eyes still squeezed shut and covered by her hands. Rossi barely made out her mumbling that the lights were too bright, upon which he went to shut the window blinds.

"Dave..." Hotch entered the room, having come to talk to Rossi about starting the case the team just got that morning. And to offer Rossi a choice to sit this one out so he could talk more with Alsie. Spencer had told him enough for him to realize that such a talk would be necessary.

Hotch's brow rose in concern at Alsie clutching her head in pain. He started to approach her, but was beaten there by Spencer, who had followed him to the room.

"Alsie. Are you..." Spencer crouched down in front of Alsie, his voice soft and quiet. He quickly noted how she clenched her eyes shut and how she held her head. He didn't even need to hear what she mumbled to realize she was having a migraine. And a severe one at that.

"Reid, what..."

Spencer interrupted Hotch with a gesture that they should keep their voices low. Followed by a request for them to dim, if not turn off, the lights in the room.

0

 **A/N:** _If anyone's curious my twitter is: JLAdkin801, I've started to tweet more often usually game stuff but I also post update news about this fic._


	28. The Brain is Wider Than The Sky

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 28** : The Brain is Wider Than The Sky

Spencer sat down quietly at the round table in the conference room. Thirty-eight minutes and seventeen second had passed since Alsie's and Rossi's talk, which had been cut short by Alsie's migraine. He stared ahead without noticing anything, just his thoughts as he tried to sort through them.

Upon seeing Alsie in pain and rushing to her, his first instinct had been to stay by her side. He felt immensely protective of her and he swore he nearly felt the pangs of a headache himself upon sight of her suffering.

Actually, he realized, he had felt something was wrong in the minutes before he and Hotch had entered Rossi's office. It was bizarre as he thought about it now, but at the time it seemed less so. He'd barely noticed it, and if he hadn't had an eidetic memory he'd likely have forgot or dismissed it.

"...Reid?" Hotch's voice finally cut through Spencer's thought process and the latter blinked, startled. He only then realized that the rest of the team had also entered the room.

"Um, yeah." Spencer replied, showing that he was no longer immersed in his own thoughts. Thoughts which he had no intention of sharing. He wished again that he had insisted staying by Alsie until Shelly arrived instead of allowing Rossi to do so.

"...let's get started." Hotch spoke to the group after mentioning that Rossi was dealing with another matter and would sit this case out. "You've each been given the file of the latest victim. Victor Cutler, age thirty-seven, who was found this morning in his hotel room he'd rented for the week."

Hotch waited as the team perused the files, Spencer the only one not using a tablet.

"Damn..." Morgan mumbled at the crime scene photos, judging by the amount of wounds the damage to the victim had been extensive.

"The multiple cuts and stabs to his torso and limbs point to extreme overkill. Or torture." Lewis postulated, swiping to the next file page.

"Why so little blood though? None of the cuts seem to have bled..." JJ flipped through the file, her brow furrowed in curiosity. "What was the cause of death?"

"That is why we were called in on this case." Hotch started to explain before Spencer interjected, having just finished perusing the file page listing the cause of death.

"...the M.E found tetrodotoxin in his system. Enough to kill three grown men." Spencer looked up from the file, recalling a case from over a month ago. "The same poison that was used to kill Jeremy Yaegar..."

"Cutler was injected with it same as Yaegar had been. And witnesses last saw him with a blonde at a local bar not far from his hotel." Hotch continued, his last sentence heavy with implications - the night they'd went to arrest Yaegar before he was poisoned, one of the waitresses had mentioned seeing the man with a blonde woman.

"You think this was done by the same unsub?"

"It would be one hell of a coincidence if it wasn't. Tetra-, whatever, isn't a typical choice of poison."

"Tetrodotoxin." Spencer piped up, correcting the mispronunciation, before continuing. "It's found naturally in several species of fish and marine life, the most well-known being the puffer-fish or fugu which is considered a delicacy in Japanese culture. Did you know that..."

"How difficult would it be to get a hold of some tetrodotoxin?" Lewis asked, interrupting Spencer from continuing on his spiel. "For our unsub?"

"Considering it's actually produced by bacteria found in many marine creatures as well as some newts and toads, it may not be as difficult to get as some other poisons." Spencer replied, and paused for a moment before continuing. "Statistically, few of those infected from consuming tainted pufferfish actually die each year, and it has also been used as a method of faking death in mystery stories. Both which make it seem less toxic than cyanide, despite it being more so. Especially if it's injected directly into the bloodstream..."

Spencer was about to list the symptoms and other facts about tetrodotoxin, only to be interrupted by his team who brought his focus back to the case itself.

0

Alsie cringed at the sound of a door opening, her head still pulsing though it'd been hours. The first few of which had been spent waiting for Shelly to pick her up after Spencer called her friend's cell.

It wasn't until the start of the third hour of waiting that she realized that Shelly likely wasn't coming. Nor was her migraine going away any time soon.

"Are you all right?" Rossi asked as he helped her out of the car. He had insisted on driving her home, upon learning that Alsie was going to head home on her own rather than wait. It was either that or taking her to the hospital.

"I'm fine." Alsie replied, her eyes hidden behind the dark shades she wore. Not that it helped much, though it made her migraine-induced light sensitivity tolerable. Her lips pursed in embarrassment when she tripped on the apartment building's threshold and Rossi caught her by the arm before she fell.

"You're not fine." Rossi replied after helping Alsie steady herself. He wordlessly noted how she had tensed unconsciously when he grabbed her arm. "You should see a doctor..."

"I have. She prescribed me something. It's in my apartment." Alsie replied, biting her lip at the feeling of nausea creeping up on her. Her eyes watered as she mumbled her apartment number to Rossi, who walked with her up the stairs to her place.

Her sudden lack of resistance wasn't lost on Rossi. He helped her into the apartment and toward the closest chair, until she insisted on heading toward the bathroom. She pulled away and headed toward the bathroom door before Rossi could respond.

"..." Rossi not quite convinced that Alsie was fine, lingered in the front end of the apartment by the entrance. Concern for the petite brunette wasn't the main reason he didn't quietly leave though, but rather curiosity.

His eyes briefly scanned the room. It was dimly lit, without any windows, and the walls were a muted tan. There were a couple end tables placed against the far wall and two book shelves filled with books.

Rossi crocked an eyebrow at the immense amount of books. Those that didn't fit in the shelves were piled either below or on the two end tables, as well as on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

'No wonder Reid likes her...' Rossi thought as he picked up one of the books, recalling how worried Spencer had been back at Quantico. The younger man had refused to leave Alsie's side until forced to by their current case. And even then Rossi had to reassure Spencer that he would make sure Alsie got home safely.

Placing the book down after noting that it, as well as the others in the pile weren't in a language he recognized let alone knew, Rossi moved to the bookshelves. The majority of them were hardcovers, and many seemed old.

"Is there any one in particular that interests you?" Alsie asked, her approach quiet enough that Rossi was surprised when he heard her voice so close.

"I was just looking. You have a lot of books." He turned towards her, noting that she still had on her sunglasses. Also that she had changed her shirt.

"I'm sorry." Alsie mumbled, her voice a little wobbly. "I know you have questions about James, and about..." She cleared her throat, thinking about her lost daughter. Her eyes tearing up behind her sunglasses. "I...I will...I just need to lie down for a while."

"Are you sure you're okay? Perhaps I should take you to the hospital...?" Rossi suggested as he glanced over her, at how vulnerable she seemed. And exhausted.

"It's fine. I...I just sometimes get nauseous during a migraine, which is a common symptom by the way. And I just need to lie down until the medicine kicks in." Alsie replied, flashing a small, shy smile and telling Rossi he could stay if he wanted.

"No, I should go. You get some rest." Rossi replied, mildly disappointed but not surprised. It was clear that even if he pressed Alsie for answers that second, she wouldn't be able to concentrate.

He sighed as he left and the door slowly shut behind him.

0

"You're sure? You can take the day off and wait for her to be able to..." Hotch paused, listening to Rossi explain what had happened after he brought Alsie to her apartment. And that it was unlikely that she could answer any questions until her migraine lapsed. "All right, I'm on my way to question Victor Cutler's family, I'll text you the address and you can meet me there."

Hotch paused as Rossi asked where Spencer and the rest of the team were. He replied as he slid into the driver's seat of the black SUV.

"Reid's over at the morgue looking over the M.E reports. The others are interviewing witnesses at the bar Cutler was last seen at a few nights ago." Hotch replied, placing the call on speaker as he started the vehicle. "Dave, you don't have to come in. Finding out about Schmidt and her connection to James, it's understandable if you want to take time off to question her."

 _-"I...I don't think I can question her. Not about James. There's likely to be details I just don't want to know." Rossi grimaced as he approached his car and unlocked it. The idea of finding out any more negative things about his son repugnant.-_

"I understand. It will need to be done eventually, but I or another member of the team can handle that questioning." Hotch answered, driving along toward his destination. The two of them were silent for a few moments before the younger man continued. "Reid explained to me about what Schmidt had told him. About her pregnancy..."

Rossi's sudden intake of breath was enough to tell Hotch that he had hit the real issue.

 _-"...so you know..." Rossi replied, his tone even-keel though inside he felt an immense grief.-_

"Yes. But only as much as Reid, and Schmidt didn't give him details or explain much about it." Hotch waited briefly as he grouped his thoughts together. There was an idea that had occurred to him after learning what Alsie had told Spencer. An idea that he likely wouldn't have had if they hadn't discovered those twenty-seven families that it had happened to.

 _-"What is it, Aaron?" Rossi asked after sensing Hotch's hesitance. "What's bothering you?"-_

"Kenneth Connell." Hotch started, his reply throwing Rossi a bit. "Garcia wasn't able to find any abducted newborns connected to him, despite his uncle being responsible for so many. Including James. It doesn't make sense that Somerfield had Kenneth Connell take over Tobias' part of the scheme and yet not have him do anything."

 _-Rossi felt his stomach clench. "You don't think that...?"-_

"I don't know. We don't have enough information about Schmidt's pregnancy three years ago. But considering the possibility, however slim, that Somerfield knew about Schmidt expecting James' child, I'd like to be sure of what happened. Wouldn't you?"

 _-Rossi tensed and drew in a sharp breath. Between talking with Alsie at Quantico and bringing her home to rest, he had been too shocked by things to connect her pregnancy to Somerfield's scheme. He thought about Alsie's distress when she'd told him about her daughter. "...we'll need to have Garcia look into this. Quietly. The last thing I want to do is give false hope to a still grieving mother."-_

"...I understand." Hotch replied after a moment, though he had at first wanted to insist on questioning Schmidt. Instead he brought the conversation back to the current case. This time not insisting that Rossi take time off.


	29. For Put Them Side By Side

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 29:** For Put Them Side By Side

Shelly watched behind the wheel of her own car as Rossi drove off. The message that had been left on her phone reverberated in her ears. It irked her. More than she would care to admit.

The concern in Spencer's voice as he'd asked her to pick up Alsie, and the way he consistently called the latter Alsie rather than Allison or Schmidt, stoked a flame of jealousy.

She may have set up their first date, but that was only because she thought Alsie wouldn't pursue another one. Yet not only had Alsie done so, effectively nullifying her prior protests that she didn't want another relationship, but the two seemed to have grown close. Quite quickly.

Shelly grimaced, tightening her hands around the steering wheel. She had waited in the parking-lot since receiving the voice mail, hoping each second she delayed picking Alsie up, that Spencer would escort the petite brunette home.

Rossi bringing Alsie back was completely unexpected. It threw her off.

"...damn." Shelly grumbled and opened her handbag that she'd laid on the front passenger seat. Pushing aside her cell phone and makeup, she unzipped the inner pocket of her purse and took out a small photo wallet. Followed by a medium sized metal case.

She stared at both things, her eyes narrowed as she thought.

0

Alsie lied down on her bed, her head still throbbing. Her stomach still churned with migraine-induced nausea, a feeling much worse than the pain.

It reminded her of her pregnancy and the morning sickness she'd experienced.

Her eyes teared up as she remembered. Those first few weeks after finding out she was finally pregnant had been filled with trepidation - she had miscarried twice before. Once she made it into the second trimester, then the third with the doctor finding nothing wrong with her daughter, it'd seemed guaranteed that she'd be a mother.

Even after James had left without a word, she'd felt happy because she had her baby. And no one would be able to take her daughter from her.

Alsie swallowed back a sob, and with it tried to dismiss the memory of that day. Of the incident that stole her daughter from her. She couldn't view it as an accident, despite what Shelly and the doctors had told her.

The car that hit her that day had been speeding. And its driver hadn't bothered to stick around, despite having actually gotten out to help her. Perhaps he'd been too afraid to after she'd loss consciousness?

Alsie shuddered and grabbed a vial and syringe she had brought with her from the bathroom. She hadn't planned on taking it, especially considering it wasn't prescribed for her migraines but rather for the injuries stemming from that accident.

She sighed and measured out the dosage. Her lips twitched as she recalled how she had twisted the truth when Spencer had asked her about it at their second cafe rendezvous. She hadn't lied, but she hadn't explained the truth either.

She grimaced and closed her eyes, wincing as her head throbbed anew.

0

Garcia frowned as she dug through the electronic data she had on Victor Cutler, and compared it to Jeremy Yaegar's. So far nothing connected the two, aside from their murders and the fact both had frequented clubs and bars. Neither had worked at the same places, nor lived in the same neighborhoods. Victor Cutler wasn't even from the area and had been in town on vacation.

She was about to grumble when her phone rang. A glance at the number revealed it to be Rossi's. She quickly answered and gave one of her customary greetings.

 _-"Garcia, there's someone I need you to look into." Rossi said, explaining that it wasn't connected to their current case. "Allison Schmidt."-_

Garcia's eyes widened and her typing fingers paused over the keyboard. "You mean Reid's girlfriend?" She blurted, confused and reluctant to agree to the request. Even more so because she had seen Rossi leave to escort Alsie home.

 _-"...you know about her and Reid?" Rossi queried.-_

"I met her when she visited Reid in the hospital, I thought she was nice." Garcia replied, her reluctance audible in her voice. "Couldn't you just talk to her directly rather than have me snoop into her life?"

 _-"Believe me, I'm not fond of doing things this way either." Rossi paused while Garcia interrupted, asking him why he didn't talk to Alsie then. Or have Spencer do so. "Garcia, I'm not asking you to look into her whole history. Just..." Rossi hestitated, then explained what Alsie had told him that morning.-_

"OMG." Garcia gaped after Rossi explained about Alsie's connection to James as well as her pregnancy three years ago. "Sir, that's...Alsie and your son...? I..."

 _-"Garcia, will you look into what happened to Alsie's child?" Rossi replied, further iterating about Hotch and his suspicions - the possibility that Somerfield or Connell knew about Alsie and James' child.-_

"All right." Garcia replied, agreeing to the request.

0

 _-memory/flashback-_

 _"What did I tell you about going into the woods?" A sullen woman, with graying hair tightly pulled into a bun on top, rounded on the two girls entering the front door. Her glare was sharp and her lips pressed into a thin line that made it almost seem non-existent. "It isn't safe, especially around that old well."_

 _The smaller girl froze and seemed to shrink beneath that piercing glare, while the other girl - Alsie - simply stood still, remaining quiet._

 _"It...it isn't my fault, granny. Addie made me go with her!" The younger girl blurted, and Alsie flinched at the accusation. She bit down on her tongue while screaming in her thoughts that she hadn't forced the younger child to follow her._

 _"Is that so, Adrienne?" The woman, the younger girl's grandma, asked sternly. Her sharp gaze focused on the older child, taking in how Alsie deliberated before answering._

 _Alsie bit her inner cheek as she thought, studying the older woman. The lady, Mary Schimdt, had taken her in after finding Alsie sleeping in a shed on the far edge of the property. Though it had been at the insistence of the lady's granddaughter Allie._

 _The eleven year old stood up straight, hands folded in front of her. "It is so, ma'am." She answered, succinct and polite. Her brown eyes, partially hidden behind her long brown hair, betrayed nothing. Or at least she thought._

 _Mary Schmidt noticed the waryiness in the young girl's eyes. She sighed._

 _"Allie, go help Miranda in the kitchen. Adrienne, come with me to the study." The woman instructed, glaring at her grand-daughter when she started to complain. The sharpness of it silenced Allie who skittered away quickly._

 _Alsie followed Mary into the study, betraying none of the whirling emotions and thoughts plowing through her brain. She remained quiet and simply watched as the older lady sat down._

 _"There's no need to cover for my granddaughter." Mary spoke, her tone softening as did the harshness in her eyes. "She's like her cousins, placing blame on others and not herself."_

 _Alsie remained silent. Still wary despite the vanishing of the older lady's rigid glare. It was only after she was offered to sit and have some candy from the jar on the desk that she started to relax._

 _"Thank you." Alsie whispered as she took a candy, her whole demeanor suddenly demure. But at the same time much more natural. She didn't even mind that Mary kept calling her Adrienne even though she had explained she hated it._

 _Mary studied the eleven-year-old, and smiled as the girl finished the first candy and asked for permission to take another piece. Permission that she granted, at the same time thinking how her granddaughter wouldn't have bothered asking._

 _Alsie said thank you again and took another piece, savoring it with a smile that finally reached her eyes. Something that seldom occurred._

 _"Adrienne," The woman began after a moment, her tone gentle but serious. The child winced, catching the subtle change in tone. "I hired someone to try to find your family..."_

 _Alsie flinched, her eyes widening into saucers. Her face drained of color and she shook her head. "No, no. Please. Don't...please! I'll do anything just don't...please!"_

 _Mary shook her head. "I'm sure they're worried..."_

 _"No! Momma'll kill me." Alsie cried, instinctively touching the scar she hid with her hair. She trembled, her breathing quickening._

 _Mary watched this, her eyes widening. They widened further when Alsie flew from her chair and cowered by the bookshelf. She had had an inkling that there was some reason the girl had been homeless and alone. And she had chalked it up to Addie having ran away or been abandoned. The truth of it didn't dawn on her until that moment._

 _"Momma, please, don't..." Alsie mumbled, no longer aware of her surroundings as a past memory broke through. She cowered into a ball, trembling._

 _"Oh god." Mary uttered, hurrying towards the child. She suddenly realized why this girl had never talked about home. "Adrienne, Adrienne. It's all right. You're safe."_

 _The woman felt tears fill her eyes seeing the girl so terrified. She wanted to embrace the cowering child and comfort her, but couldn't. From the first day Alsie moved in, it'd been clear that physical contact of any sort terrified the girl._

 _The woman continued trying to soothe Alsie, finally resorting to using the nickname the girl had introduced herself with when they'd met._

 _"Alsie, Alsie, it's all right. You're safe." The older lady crooned, kneeling beside the child. Her voice finally getting through to the cowering girl._

 _"...are you going to send me back?" Alsie sniffled, her question punctuated by a sob._

 _"No. I won't. No matter what."_

 _x_

Alsie jolted back into consciousness, the vividness of the memory intense. She hadn't allowed herself to think about that time in her life for a long while. Not since her twentieth birthday. The day she decided never to return to being 'Adrienne Crawford.'

She stared up at the ceiling, mentally commenting on how her sunglasses hadn't fallen off. She had to have been out of it for an hour, perhaps longer. Her migraine had dimmed down to a slight throb.

"Hey." Shelly interrupted the silence, her tone surprising Alsie more than her presence. It was a tone the blonde had never used with her before.

"Shel? When did you get here?" Alsie asked, the harshness in her friend's tone stopping her from demanding to know why Shelly hadn't come to pick her up earlier. She sat up, her eyes widening behind her sunglasses at the look on her friend's face.

"I thought you had no intention of dating anyone for real. That since James..." Shelly glowered, unable to hide her jealousy. Nor the brief contempt that flashed over her face.

"...I don't...Shel, I don't..." Alsie chewed on her lip. "...you're the one who set up that first date with Spencer...why are you angry now?"

Shelly's answer was a glare full of loathing. "I only set that up because you figured out those roman numerals. Which he gave to me years ago. You should've declined another date."

Alsie flinched and instinctively started to move away from Shelly. Her dimmed migraine threatened to renew its throbbing.

"...I don't understand. Why should I have declined...? I thought..."

"...You thought I didn't care, that it was all right to date a guy I met first?" Shelly mumbled, her sharp eyes following Alsie. For a second she glanced away, thinking before continuing. "Honestly, I was okay with it at first. You've lost a lot, been through a lot, these past few years. I thought you deserved something positive."

Shelly paused, taking a breath before glaring at Alsie again. She refrained from approaching the brunette however, instead remaining the one closest to the bedroom door.

"Shel, then why..."

"You really don't get it..." Shelly shook her head at the timid and confused woman. She exhaled, and slipped her hand into her pocket. "Of course you don't. Then again, you're not the real Allison."

Alsie froze, her face drained of color. She swallowed and tried to reply but Shelly interrupted.

"Don't deny it. I knew for years. Your...Allison's grandma, Mary Schmidt, told me years ago. She took you in after something happened to her granddaughter, and had you become Allie." Shelly gave a mirthless laugh.

"Shel, I...it wasn't my...I..." Alsie took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. A sense of dizziness crept up on her, which she attempted to hold off.

"I don't care." Shelly spat, taking out a syringe from her pocket.


	30. The One the Other Will Contain

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 30:** The One The Other Will Contain

"I don't care." Shelly repeated, approaching the petite brunette. "Not about you. Or Spencer. Or why Allie's grandmother took you in. That is all just...just not..."

Shelly glowered, stopping briefly at Alsie wincing as though in immense pain.

"Don't give me that. I know you can fake a headache." Shelly spat, though a glimmer of concern was present in her glare. She hesitated, but only for a second. "It's not protecting you."

Alsie shuddered, not giving any indication that she heard Shelly. The latter renewed her movement toward the smaller woman.

"You never said anything about what James did. About what he was. I thought he was some guy who left you, but that...that article about him..." Shelly seethed, her words spewing forth like a torrent. As though all her hatred and anger were released at once. "He should've been strung up and gutted, not allowed to live in a prison cell. Not after what he did to my sister fifteen years ago."

Alsie, struggling to ward off the sense of dizziness she felt as well as the sense that she would black out, gasped. Her eyes widened behind her sunglasses. "...what?"

"Cheryl. She was raped and left for dead, her eyes mutilated. Just like that article said that bastard fiance of yours did to his victims." Shelly growled, only around two feet from Alsie. She quickly grabbed the other woman's arm, the syringe still tightly clenched in her hand.

"I...Shel..."

"You know, I'm glad that...that devil spawn you two were going to have is gone." Shelly sneered, knocking off Alsie's sunglasses and forcing the terrified brown eyes to look into hers. "It would've been rotten like its father."

Alsie's burnt umber eyes, until then filled with fear, turned icy. Her lips pressed firmly together in a glower that made Shelly's appear tame. She didn't give the blonde a chance to realize what had happened before she lunged, twisted the hand holding the syringe.

0

The neighborhood was quiet and unassuming, as was the house hidden behind a perimeter of dense bushes. A large acorn tree overlooked the yard.

Hotch approached the gate, and as he did so he noticed a woman standing on the porch. She walked towards the gate, which was secured with a chain and padlock.

"Mrs. Cutler?" Hotch asked the woman who nodded curtly, but made no effort to unlock the gate. Instead she stood with her arms crossed, her expression uninviting.

"Like I told the other cops, I have nothing to say. Whatever that bastard did to get himself killed has nothing to do with me or my family." Susan Cutler said before Hotch could even introduce himself, let alone ask to speak inside.

"Mrs. Cutler..." Hotch started to respond, confused since the woman had agreed to be interviewed when he'd called her earlier to say he was on his way.

The woman however simply turned around and entered the house, leaving the gate locked. Her body language shouting that she meant what she'd said. Hotch was about to call after her when someone else started over from across the street.

"Don't mind her." The stranger said, his tone calm. He held out his hand. "Eric Cutler. And you're the agent here to talk about my brother, right?"

"Yes, I'm agent Hotchner, I..." Hotch turned to the man, his greeting faltering when he saw the man. Before him was the spitting image of the victim. He blinked, his eyebrows rising. "You are Victor are twins?"

"Yeah." Eric replied, while Hotch studied the other man carefully. He was more confused, since while the information they had on Victor mentioned a brother, it didn't list them as twins. Nor was the brother's name Eric, but rather Vincent.

"Your name's Eric? What about Vincent?" Hotch asked, curious and suspicious. The man's physical similarity to their victim the only thing that stopped him from dismissing the stranger as a liar.

"Oh yeah. Sorry. Victor and I were adopted by different families as toddlers. We only found out about each other as adults, about seven years ago." Eric explained, and invited the agent to talk at his house across the street.

"You live across the street from your brother, despite only knowing him seven years?"

"Yeah, well we missed out on being brothers most of our lives so it seemed like a good idea." Eric said, a tone of glee in his voice. Something Hotch viewed as strange considering the circumstances. "Until Susan found out."

He said the last bit only after he and Hotch were in his yard.

Hotch considered the man's response. What Eric said and the tone of voice used gave him an inkling of what the other man meant.

"It isn't that bad. I just covered for him when he was at a bar or at some hotel." Eric smirked, not at all trying to hide what he meant by covering for his brother.

Hotch immediately disliked the other man, making a mental note to call Garcia to look into Eric Cutler.

"What about Vincent?" Hotch asked, steering the conversation away from Eric essentially bragging about tricking his brother's wife.

"Don't know. He was starting college when Victor was adopted by the Cutlers. And apparently left home long before Victor could remember much about him." Eric replied flippantly, not at all concerned. It seemed neither the death of his twin nor the disappearance of his twin's adoptive brother, fazed him.

"Mr. Cutler..." Hotch began, only to be distracted by the sound of a gate opening and hurried footsteps. He had barely turned around when Susan Cutler, having changed her mind at talking with the agent upon noticing him with Eric, entered the yard.

"Don't talk to that bastard. He's as bad as his brother." Susan spat, her eyes narrowed considerably and her nostrils flared from anger.

"Mrs. Cutler." Hotch eyed the woman, before glancing back at Eric who was staring at Susan. Even the vehemence in Mrs. Cutler's expression couldn't erase the enjoyment the victim's twin was getting out of the situation.

"See? I told you not to mind her stalking off." Eric grinned, the next moment shrugging as the woman threw him a scathing glance.

Hotch quietly wondered at the two Cutlers, at the animosity Susan showed and the flippant enjoyment Eric felt. Neither seemed concerned about Victor, nor the investigation into the murder.

0

Spencer bit his lip as he went over the M.E report. His concentration kept getting distracted by thoughts of Alsie, an uneasiness gnawing at him. He fidgeted, taking out his cell phone for the third time that morning.

He started to dial Alsie's number, yet stopped midway. Though he was worried about her, he didn't want the ring of his call to exacerbate her migraine. He chewed on his lip and put his phone away.

'Rossi's with her.' He reminded himself, and focused once more on the file in his hands. It wasn't until his next couple of tries to focus failed that he once more took out his cell phone. His gut and mind were both yelling at him to check on Alsie. That something awful was going to happen.

It was the same feeling he had years ago when he'd tried convincing Maeve to let his team look into her stalker. Back then he had dismissed his gut feeling and had kept silent about things, like Maeve insisted. That had been the worst decision he ever made.

He took in a breath, and started to dial Rossi to ask about Alsie, when his phone rang. The number showing on the display Shelly's.

"Hello? Shelly? What's...?" His breath caught when Alsie replied, her tone shaky and slightly incoherent. "Alsie, Alsie, calm down. What happened?"

 _-"Shelly, she...I don't know. She came...at me, and...I don't..." Alsie attempted to answer, her voice highly stressed. She trembled and seemed about to hyperventilate.-_

"Alsie, what about Rossi? Isn't he there...?" Spencer asked, despite realizing that if Alsie was calling him then it was unlikely that Rossi was close by.

 _-"I went to lie down. He left. I...Shel..." Alsie mumbled, curled into a ball by the far end of the room. Her eyes wide and focused on her friend lying motionless on the floor. "There's...blood. I can't...I don't know...I..."-_

Spencer paled, listening to Alsie's broken response. His gut roiled from anxiety and dread, especially after the woman mentioned having blacked out. His brain immediately processed different scenarios, the most prominent being that Alsie had switched to an alter of hers.

"Alsie, don't worry, I'll be there soon." He replied, attempting to alleiviate the panic he caught in her voice. "Just breathe slowly, and try to calm down."

 _-"..." Alsie did as instructed, slowing her breathing. Though she felt anything but calm, even as she turned away from Shelly. The scene before her, of Shelly lying motionless with blood on her face and abdomen, was already burned into Alsie's memory. She trembled, muttering something that Spencer barely caught.-_

"...Alsie, you...?" Spencer started to ask in response to what the distraught woman had said. Instead he swallowed back the question and with it the nagging feeling that gnawed at his gut. "I'll be right over."

He said the last bit as he moved towards the door, his thoughts focused completely on Alsie. He ended the call and started to dial another just as he opened the door.

"Whoa, kid, what's the rush?" Rossi said as Spencer nearly ran into him exiting the room. After talking to Hotch and then Garcia the senior agent had decided to join Spencer going over the medical reports on the victim.

"...Why are you here? You said you'd stay with Alsie." Spencer said, foregoing greeting the elder man in his worry.

Rossi crocked an eyebrow. "I brought her home safely. She's sleeping off her headache..."

"No, she's not." Spencer interrupted, quickly explaining the phone call he'd just received.

Rossi's eyes widened, his lips parting as he listened. "I...I left her at her apartment not much longer than an hour ago. She was fine, and no one else was there..."

"Something happened after you left. I'm not sure what, but Alsie..." Spencer replied, recalling everything the brunette had mumbled while talking to him. It didn't take long for the two agents to head out to check on Alsie, with Rossi telling Spencer to inform Hotch while he drove them.

0

 _A/N: I had just started writing this chapter when I found out about Thomas Gibson's being fired. （；゜０゜）_

 _I'm not necessarily a Hotch fangirl, but it sucks! Especially since I've gotten writer's block from it. (*｀へ´*)_

 _I just hope the character isn't killed off but rather decides to retire since it'd just be heart-wrenching for Hotch's son Jack otherwise. (T ^ T)_


	31. With Ease and You Beside

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 31:** With Ease And You Beside

"Thank you for your time." Hotch said as he left Mrs. Cutler's place, having gotten all the information he could out of the newly widowed woman. It had taken an effort to lead her back to her house and away from Eric Cutler, whose demeanor exacerbated the tension between the two. It was only after Eric decided to go inside his own house that Hotch managed to calm Susan. "If I have any more questions I'll be in touch. Or if you have any, don't hesitate to call."

Hotch tilted his head to the card he had handed Susan Cutler, listing his name and contact information. Despite what he said, he had a feeling that the woman wouldn't call. She seemed to truly despise her late husband, as well as her brother-in-law. And she didn't care for the answers as to why Victor had been murdered.

Hotch sighed as he returned to his SUV, wondering if the other members of his team had garnered any pertinent information. It was as he turned the ignition that his phone rang.

"Hello, Reid, have you found any..." Hotch greeted, phone held to his ear. He paused, furrowing his brow as he listened to the younger man. Concern lit his face as Spencer explained what had happened, that Alsie seemed to be in trouble, and that he and Rossi were on their way to check on her.

Hotch was briefly about to comment on the wisdom of both agents going while they had a case, but quickly reconsidered it. After what that morning revealed about Schmidt, both her connection to James and her bond with Spencer, he understood both agents' need to check on the petite woman.

"All right. I'll inform the others and continue to work the case. Once you two make sure Schmidt is all right, join us at the precinct."

0

 _-flashback/memory-_

 _"Addie, Addie, wait up or I'll tell!" Allie yelled out as the taller girl stormed ahead. Her threat had an immediate effect: Alsie rounded on her._

 _"You'll just tell granny anyway. You're a leech." Alsie hissed, annoyed by the younger girl. The two of them had been swimming in a nearby pond secretly the other day and gotten caught, only for Allie to turn rat and blame it all on her._

 _"You...you're the leech!" Allie screamed back, not at all expecting the older girl's response. Her eyes narrowed, her face scrunched up as though ready to scream as loud as possible. "And granny Mary is not your grandma. No matter how much you butter her up. You're around cuz I want you to be!"_

 _Alsie drew in a breath, fighting the urge to correct the younger girl. It was Mary Schmidt that she first overheard referring to Allie as a leech. The older woman had then added how envious she was that Alsie wasn't her granddaughter._

 _It was obvious to all but the young girl herself that Mary Schmidt disliked her real granddaughter. There was even talk about whether Allie was really Mary's son's kid or not._

 _"Addie!"_

 _"I told you before, it's not Addie! It's Alsie!" Alsie growled back only to flinch hearing her own voice. The next moment she realized that the younger girl was getting ready to bawl out at her reply._

 _Before Allie could, Alsie ran off, going deeper into the woods. She never even looked behind to see if the younger girl had followed her._

 _x_

Tears slid down Alsie's face as she huddled against the wall, trying not to look at Shelly. Nor to think about the blonde. It terrified her, the image she'd taken in of Shelly when Alsie had glanced at her. It was intensely vivid.

She was confused however, and horrified, her memory of what Shelly had been saying earlier still imprinted vividly in her thoughts. It was what had come afterwards that she'd blocked out.

She could only imagine what she'd done to Shelly after blacking out. Whatever it was, Shelly was lying motionless, and had been for at least fifteen or twenty minutes. She hadn't been able to call for an ambulance, too terrified. Instead she had called Spencer on the phone that'd been closest to her.

A phone she now held tightly in her hand.

"Alsie?!" Spencer's voice called out shortly following the sound of the apartment door being opened.

"Allison?" Rossi called out next, as he pointed out to Spencer where the bedroom was. The name he called her by caused Alsie to shudder, a gasp finally breaking through her lips.

It was a small sound, the only sound that she could make as she trembled, yet it drew the two agents towards her.

"Alsie!" Spencer quickly sprinted to the room, his eyes wide with fear. They widened further upon seeing Shelly sprawled on the floor.

"...Spencer..." Alsie mumbled, finally loosening out of her self-comforting huddle by the wall. Hearing her meek voice, Spencer broke his attention on Shelly and instead hurried to Alsie.

"It'll be okay. It'll be okay." He crouched down next to Alsie, his eyes taking in how small she seemed. And how terrified. Once more he regretted leaving her side earlier.

While he focused on Alsie, reassuring her that whatever happened wasn't her fault, Rossi called for an ambulance for Shelly. The next moment, after checking the blonde's wounds and starting to provide basic first aid, he also called in for a CSI unit.

"Ros..." Spencer turned back towards the older agent, his eyes wide. Rossi read them easily.

"We need to know what happened here, Reid." Rossi replied, while staunching the most serious of Shelly's wounds. Though he wondered quietly if it would make any difference - the blonde woman had lost a copious amount of blood already. "We need to take Schmidt in."

Spencer tried to speak, to argue against what Rossi had said, but his mind went blank. There was nothing he could say to refute the logic behind the senior agent's suspicions. It was very clear, going by the upheaval of the room, that some sort of skirmish had occurred between the two women. Alsie had even mumbled as much when she'd called.

"It had to be self-defense." Spencer told Rossi. Even as he said it he wondered why Shelly would attack Alsie. The two were friends, weren't they? He frowned, only to be distracted by Alsie grabbing onto his shirt and burying her face against his chest. There was only a jiffy of hesitance before Spencer responded, cradling one arm around the small woman.

Rossi took in the two with nary a word, instead keeping quiet and returning his attention to the unconscious Shelly. The bleeding of her most grievous wound seemed to have stopped from the pressure he applied to it. And though her minor wounds still bled, it seemed likelier that the blonde would survive.

Shelly's eyes fluttered as she started to regain consciousness, just as the sounds of the police and paramedics could be heard hurrying up the stairs. Her eyes fully opened seconds later and she squinted, focusing on Rossi.

"It's okay. The paramedics are almost her..." Rossi reassured the woman, only to be suddenly and mercilessly cut off by Shelly scratching his cheek. "...shit!"

Rossi cursed and jerked away from the assault, his skin burning where the blonde's nails had dug in deepest. His eyes were wide and livid, having been completely thrown off by Shelly's attack, as well as the vehemence glinting in her eyes.

"You're that bastard's father!" Shelly spat, though at a much weaker tone than she wanted. The blood she'd lost had dampened her strength to yell. "You should've...just...that bastard son...you..."

Rossi froze. His face taut as the meaning of Shelly's growled words became clear. He nearly pulled away the hand he held against Shelly's abdomen to staunch the blood-loss. He actually did so after Shelly hissed out the words 'devil's spawn' along with James' name.

Luckily for all of them, the paramedics had arrived seconds before and quickly took over. Applying pressure to Shelly's wounds and prepping her for transport, including giving her a sedative when she struggled to get at Rossi.

Alsie clung tighter to Spencer as her ears picked up Shelly's words. She trembled and bit down on her lips, her throat aching along with her head. She refused to let go of Spencer, even as they insisted she go to the hospital for a check up.

"I'm fine." Alsie mumbled against Spencer's chest, the tears wetting her eyes and the hoarseness of her voice saying otherwise. After one more attempt to convince her to go to the hospital in the ambulance, the two agents changed tactics and decided to take her there themselves.

0

Garcia typed away on her keyboard, combing through all the files she could find on the victims, while her search on Alsie continued in the background. She grimaced as nothing popped up connecting Cutler and Yaegar, at least not in the past seventeen years. Making a tch sound with her tongue, she started to refine her search to include earlier records on both victims, birth certificates, etc.

She barely touched her keyboard when her search on Alsie she had going on in the background, produced results. Medical records confirming her pregnancy three years ago as well as two miscarriages prior to that. There were also a few articles about Alsie, the headlines catching Garcia's eye.

"Oh god." Garcia gaped, horrified by the first article she read. It was short, but detailed how an unknown driver had struck the pregnant woman and that the authorities were searching for information on the driver. The next article detailed more information on Alsie's condition - that she'd been in the ICU for over two weeks, and had nearly died three times during that period.

Garcia breathed in deeply, her eyes glistening as she finished the second article. The other articles were much the same, that the police were searching for the hit and run driver, and that Alsie was recovering in the hospital. The tech analyst dabbed at her eyes, before continuing to the final article. Part of her wondered at the sheer number of articles written about the incident, as well as why none of them mentioned anything about her child dying.

Halfway through the second sentence of the last article, Garcia froze. Her mouth opened in shock, but she couldn't form any words or sounds. There was only silence as she read, her heart filling with pain as she took in the horrible words.

Alsie's daughter hadn't died, or at least couldn't be confirmed to have died. The man who had hit her with his car had apparently helped deliver the baby only to leave with it immediately after. Leaving the helpless mother behind as she fell into unconsciousness.

"You son of a..." Garcia muttered as she thought about the unknown driver. Though she only talked with Alsie once, the woman seemed so sweet and didn't deserve something like this. No mother did. Her indignation at the atrocity propelling her, Garcia searched through the police database from the area where the incident occurred.

She read through the police report with fire in her eyes, determined to find out something that could point to the culprit. Her throat caught reading it, the report much more detailed than the articles. And containing one that the media got wrong. The man hadn't helped deliver the child - he had cut the child from the mother's womb!

"Oh my god." Garcia turned away from her screen, her hand over her mouth. Nausea filled her stomach at the horrid facts. She refused to look at the photographs filed in the report, knowing from what she'd read that it would be too much for her. Every part of her being wished that she could undo reading the articles and the police report.

 _'Poor child, poor Alsie...'_ Garcia wiped her eyes again, her lip trembling. ' _And Rossi...'_

She swallowed, thinking about what the senior agent had told her about James being the father of Alsie's daughter. She couldn't imagine how horrible learning about this would be for Rossi. Though the lack of a corpse meant there was a chance the child was still alive, it didn't guarantee it. Knowing herself, Rossi, and the rest of the team, they would search for the kidnapper and the child. If they did so and discovered the girl was dead...

Garcia trembled. Rossi had already been through so much lately because of James and those bastard doctors who took him.

Garcia gasped, recalling something she'd skimmed over in one of the articles. Returning to them, she quickly found it. According to an article focusing on Alsie in the hospital, a man claiming to have been the father of the missing baby had raised a ruckus at both the hospital and the local police station. He had been escorted from the premises after police were called, but had ended up not being charged.

Taking a chance, Garcia searched the police database again, searching for an incident report. Nothing. The article was right about no charges being levied against the man, who though unnamed, had to have been James.

Garcia shook her head warily, wondering if it was possible that James had been devastated by the loss of his daughter. He had to have felt something if he'd raised a ruckus at the hospital. Whether anger or sadness or...Garcia bit her lip, confused on whether to hope that James had felt something. She didn't know if it was even possible.

None of the team, nor anyone else had been able to question or evaluate James thoroughly since his arrest and conviction. It had been part of his plea-deal that he not be required to submit to any evaluations without his expressed consent. Thus, none of them knew for certain what he was: psychopath, sociopath, or something else entirely.

Garcia sighed.


	32. If Recollecting Were Forgetting

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 32:** If Recollecting Were Forgetting

"No. No." Alsie pleaded with Spencer once she caught sight of the hospital. Her voice trembled and held an undercurrent of pain and frailty. She gripped the thin man's arm tighter, as though hoping that doing so would prevent them from bringing her inside.

"Alsie?" Spencer's eyes widened then narrowed from confusion. The small woman had known they were taking her to the hospital, and hadn't made any indication earlier that she didn't want to go.

"Allison?" Rossi turned around in the driver's seat, and looked at the shivering woman. Spencer was sitting back with her, being unable to separate her from himself the entire way there. "It's either the hospital or being brought straight in for questioning."

Rossi told Alsie, his gruff voice making it sound more threatening. Though it was only because he wanted to know more about her and his granddaughter that he voiced the ultimatum. Because of how upset she was, he knew questioning her right away about what happened with Shelly would be disastrous. Of course, he mentally sighed, so would questioning her about James and her child.

"It...it's not..." Alsie mumbled but then stopped, and instead renewed her pleading. Taking a steadying breath, she looked up at Spencer. Her large eyes pleaded with him. "Not...not here. Not...this...one. Please."

Spencer gazed down at Alsie, his mind racing the same as his heart. He felt her distress, and realized that she trusted him to understand it, as well as the reason for it.

Rossi's eyes widened, realization hitting him before it did Spencer.

"Is this...where you lost your daughter...?" Rossi asked, his stomach twisting at Alsie's immediate reaction. The petite woman gasped and gave her first audible sob since entering the SUV. She immediately after buried her face in Spencer's chest.

Rossi cursed, understanding Alsie's distress all too well. It had taken him years, after being told that his son had died shortly after birth, to be comfortable in the hospital where James was born. The memories had been painful, for him and Carolyn. Excruciating even.

"It's all right." Rossi spoke, attempting to reassure Alsie, who trembled against Spencer. Turning away from that hospital, he looked up where the next nearest one was, and started to head towards it.

0

"Hotch, a witness was able to give enough of a description this time to generate a sketch of the unsub." Morgan said after the other man entered the area of the station they'd set up at.

"All right, make sure it gets circulated among those investigating." Hotch answered, his eyes briefly scanning the area. In addition to Morgan, JJ and Lewis were also present. "Let's go over what we've discovered so far..."

"Wait, we're not going to wait for Reid?"

"He's with Rossi dealing with a situation that's cropped up." Hotch replied cryptically, not sure how much he should share with the rest of the team. He himself didn't know the whole situation since neither absent agent had called him with an update yet. A glance at the three other agents told him that his explanation hadn't sufficed.

"What sort of situation?" Lewis asked, while JJ piped up next wondering if they could help whatever the situation was.

"Does it have anything to do with that woman that was in Rossi's office this morning?" Morgan asked, his words causing JJ and Lewis to recall seeing the woman as well when they'd arrived at Quantico that morning. There hadn't, however, been enough time to speculate before starting on the current case.

Hotch paused, his eyes flitting between the three other agents. "Yes. It does. Now, back to..."

"Who is she? And what happened for Rossi and Reid to both be helping her?" JJ asked, about to add 'and not the team', when a realization hit her. Despite their youngest team member not mentioning anything about it during the last few months, each of them had suspected he might be seeing someone. "Is she the woman Reid's been seeing?"

Hotch didn't even need to answer, his lack of denial answered for him.

"She is." JJ voiced the unspoken reply, her happiness for Spencer quickly turning into concern. She shared a glance with Morgan before returning her gaze to Hotch. "If something's happened with her, why aren't we helping as well? After what happened with Maeve..." JJ broke off, unable to continue as she remembered that day, and how devastating it'd been.

"I agree, why aren't we all helping? Why just Rossi..."

"Because we don't know how much of an emergency it is and we have a case to work on." Hotch replied, immediately regretting his use of the word 'emergency.' It had made the concern in each of their faces increase dramatically. "...If they need help, they'll call. Until then, we work this case."

Morgan and JJ seemed about to protest, but were cut off by Lewis' question.

"If this woman is simply Reid's girlfriend, why did Rossi sit this case out first to help her?" Lewis met Hotch's eyes, waiting for an answer. As did JJ and Morgan. "That's why he wasn't on this case this morning, right?"

Hotch, realizing that it would not only be useless but also unfair to keep the information from the three agents, decided to reply truthfully.

"The woman in question, Allison Schmidt, knows Rossi's son James. According to what she told Reid, and Rossi today, she and James were dating until three years ago."

"What?" The three agents gaped, surprised by the revelation. After James' arrest, and finding out about Somerfield, they'd attempted to find out more about the thirty-seven year old's life, but had come up empty. Except for a few possible other victims. None of them had thought to look for any actual romantic relationships James may have had. They hadn't thought it likely, considering his crimes.

Before any of the three could insist again on aiding Rossi and Spencer, Hotch spoke. "Like I said, if Rossi or Reid need our help, they'll call. And we'll be there to help. Until then, we work on the case."

0

Leah Clemens sat on a bench across the street from the law-firm, her eyes searching the people entering and exiting the doors. She had tried finding the people she sought at the home they had so many years ago, only to find a different family currently lived there.

It shouldn't have been surprising, she, her first husband, and son had moved constantly over the years. It would've been really convenient if those she sought still lived in their first home.

She wondered if the father still worked at the same place. Part of her hoped so, since if he had switched to another job, she would be lost on how to find him. Though she had tried and tried, she could not quite remember their names. Not even the surname.

After she moved her family out of state, leaving the girl behind with distant relatives, she'd tried to forget everything about the other family. Their names, faces, everything that she'd fanatically learned in order to better avoid an accidental meeting, she'd forgot since leaving Nevada.

She sighed, throat parched. The sun was bright and she wondered how long she'd been sitting, time felt irrelevant to her just then. Her anxiety made it seem to move both slower and sporadic. There was nothing more Leah wanted to do than finally confess what she and her husband had done thirty-three years ago. To seek forgiveness from the family they'd hurt. At least that's what she felt last night and this morning.

 _'Maybe I should leave? He probably doesn't work here anymore...'_ Leah pulled in her lip, subconsciously wringing her hands in her lap. With each second that passed the fortitude she'd had when she first sat down diminished, replaced by a creeping anxiety.

She didn't have to do this, Leah told herself as the minutes passed, no one knew what she and Vincent did thirty-three years ago aside from Jeff. And he didn't even know her real maiden name, let alone the name of the family Leigh was taken from. She could simply leave and start over, with a new name. New identity and a new life.

Even as she thought that her eyes locked on a familiar face across the street.

She froze.

 _'Why is he here?!'_ Leah gasped to herself, her eyes saucers. She swallowed and stood up, her legs instinctively taking her in the opposite direction. Though she'd only met the man once, she understood that his presence here meant only trouble. She felt the same foreboding now as she had years ago.

"Hey!" Someone called out to her, and grabbed her arm as she hurried down the street. "...I thought I recognized you."

"No, you..." Leah started to speak before looking at the person who grabbed her arm. Her eyes widened from surprise as she recognized the face. Relief flooded her as well as renewed anticipation. "Oh! You don't know much I've wanted to speak to you. And your grandparents."

"Really?" The man replied, his countenance filled with curiosity. He clicked his tongue, appearing to try to think of a reason for Leah's words. The next moment one came to him. "Oh, you must want to know about that girl you left with us years ago. All right. I can do that. How about we grab something to eat and then talk."

Leah, relieved at escaping the eye of the person across the street, agreed to the invitation.

"You're Mrs. Crawford, right? Leah Crawford?" The man asked as he walked her to his car parked not that far down the street. "That's the name you gave my grandparents."

"...yes." Leah replied, hesitating only a second. She paused, trying to remember the man's name. It came to her after a few moments of chewing on her tongue. "Greg, right?"

"Yep, it is. Greg Linnet. Now, I know a real good place to eat. It just opened up a few years ago, so you wouldn't know it. But the food's cooked just right." Linnet said as he held the passenger side door opened for Leah. The melodious quality of his voice lulling the woman into a sense of security.

x

Somerfield squinted across the street at the woman as she got into the car of a man she seemed to know. He had been struck by the sight of her sitting on the bench, quickly realizing why she was there. And he'd felt unexpectedly lucky once he realized who she was.

She had dyed her hair and gained a few pounds, but otherwise she was the same woman he met years back when he first looked for the twin girl Connell had sold.

'I'm not going to lose you, Leah Crawford." Somerfield thought, taking note of the car's license plate.

"Dr. Somerfield?" Alvarez approached the wizened man, confused as to why the man had stopped to stare across the street. The two of them were just on their way to grab an early lunch before continuing their talk. The elder man, who had come to him weeks ago seeking legal advice, had insisted that this day's talk take place off premises.

"Sorry, I...I was just distracted." Somerfield turned back to the younger man. "I thought I recognized someone passing by, but I was mistaken. Anyway, let's go eat."

"All right." Alvarez said, though he continued to study Somerfield even as they started towards a neighborhood diner.

0

Garcia hammered away on her keyboard, delving for more information on Victor Cutler while also having her computer search through databases for anyone resembling her newly received sketch of the unsub.

"Come on..." She mumbled, her attention intent on her screens. Never before had she been as motivated to close a case as quickly as this one. Not because she cared more about this particular case, but rather because everything she'd learned over the past hour or so.

And especially after what Morgan had called to tell her about not quite twenty minutes ago. That an incident involving Alsie had occurred and that Rossi and Spencer were helping the petite woman.

Garcia had been about to blurt out what she'd discovered about Alsie's child, but Hotch had taken over the conversation. He had, once the others were out of earshot, told her he knew about Rossi asking her to look into Alsie and James' daughter, and that it was important to wait until after this case before informing the rest of the team. Otherwise it would cause a distraction that wouldn't help anyone.

Hotch further stated that Rossi had just moments before sent a text that everything was under control with the incident involving Alsie.

Hearing that last bit was what prompted Garcia to agree to hold back what she'd discovered about Alsie. At least until the end of their present case.

"Let's see..." Garcia mumbled, keen on finding out more on the second victim. Her eyes widened suddenly when one of her searches finally uncovered something. "My god..."


	33. Then I Remember Not

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 33:** Then I Remember Not

Spencer stared down at Alsie, who slept soundly in the hospital bed. Shortly after Rossi had attempted to head to another hospital, one without an emotional stressor for the petite woman, Alsie had started to hyperventilate and then passed out. Forcing them to bring her into the first hospital anyway.

His soft eyes studied her sleeping face, so calm now. And peaceful.

"Reid?" Rossi approached, having just finished updating the rest of the team on what had happened. That things were all right. Spencer barely glanced at Rossi.

"You should have those scratches looked at and cleaned to decrease risk of infection." Spencer said, referencing the scratches Shelly had left on Rossi's cheek. "The amount of germs found under the average person's fingernails are..."

"Don't worry, one of the nurses already cleaned them. It hurt like hell." Rossi replied, adding that he refused a bandage since it would just make it seem more serious than it was.

"Not serious? Shelly clawed your face and then called your son the devil spawn..." Spencer said, turning to the older man. It was clear what the thirty-three year old currently felt about Alsie's friend, his face an open book. "On top of that she attacked Alsie, who trusts her...I...that...bitch..."

"It's fine, Spencer." Rossi interrupted, understanding what the younger agent was feeling. "Alsie's fine, the doctor said it was just an acute panic attack, coupled with the physical effects of her migraine, that made her pass out. She'll be fine with rest."

"...yeah." Spencer conceded, grimacing sadly as he gazed over Alsie again. "But...why...? I've seen Shelly and Alsie interact before, and Shelly didn't have any problem with Alsie then..." He paused, remembering the book store. Next recalling the first time he met Shelly years ago. The blonde had seemed normal on both occasions. "Why attack Alsie now?"

Rossi sighed. "...it's probably the article that was written about James. It detailed his crimes. Shelly likely read it, and for some reason, in all probability a personal one, she attacked Alsie since she couldn't get at James..."

Spencer grimaced and turned back to the older agent.

"Believe me, kid, I'm just as pissed off as you, at her." Rossi continued. "The only reason I'm not showing it is because Shelly's the one in the ICU, not Alsie."

"..." Spencer mulled over that tidbit of information, his lips somewhere between a frown and mirthless smile. It was true, Alsie was in much better condition than Shelly, but he still found it difficult to not be angry at the blonde. "I..."

"I'm sorry." Rossi said suddenly, his gaze shifting from Spencer to Alsie. The younger man stared at the senior agent, brow furrowed. "I promised to make sure Allison was safe earlier. I should've stood with her longer, rather than leave after dropping her off at her apartment."

"Rossi..." Spencer hesitated, suddenly feeling guilty. Minutes after they'd brought Alsie into the emergency room and before it was clear that she'd be fine, he had snapped at Rossi. He'd accused the older man of failing his promise to keep Alsie safe. "None of this was your fault. It's Shelly's."

Rossi was about to amend Spencer's statement, that it was James' fault as well, but held his tongue. He quickly realized that saying it was his son's fault was simply a way to bring blame back to himself. It was defeatist, and stemmed from the guilt he still felt at what happened with James. That he hadn't been able to protect his son.

Spencer gave an unsure smile and turned back to Alsie. He quietly sat down in the chair next to her bed, his soft brown eyes roaming over her sleeping face.

"The both of you are quite alike." Rossi commented, his thoughts returning to what he saw of Alsie's apartment. The vast amount and types of books that she had, had made him think of the younger man. "It's no wonder you like each other."

"...hm?" Spencer jerked his head back at the comment. His face had the same expression he got whenever he was lost in thought, only this time he seemed perfectly aware of his surroundings. He studied Rossi a moment, before gazing back at Alsie. "...yeah."

"Reid?" Rossi crocked an eyebrow at the younger agent's strange reaction. It was like Spencer's genius brain was moving much slower or through a heavy fog.

"...I...Alsie..." Spencer mumbled, his furrowed eyes moving from Alsie's face to her arms and then back to her face. The look on his face was strange, it was almost like he was seeing Alsie for the first time. Or realizing something significant about her. The next moment he shook his head, dispelling whatever thoughts had overtaken him. "Yes. Um...no, we're not...maybe...I..."

Rossi's eyebrows rose, and he was about to comment on Spencer's uncertainty, when his cell phone rang. He answered it after glancing at the number displayed and noticing it was from Hotch. He barely greeted the other man when Hotch cut in.

 _-"Dave, you and Reid are still with Schmidt, right? Is it possible to ask her some questions?" Hotch asked, without preamble.-_

"...Not really." Rossi replied, glancing back at the sleeping brunette. He had habitually moved slowly away from the bed to avoid potentially waking Alsie. "She's currently resting in the hospital..."

 _-"...what happened exactly?" Hotch replied after a pause. "Your text only mentioned that the incident was under control and that Schmidt was all right."-_

"It's complicated." Rossi said cryptically, not wanting to go into detail until he could question the petite woman. "What is it, Aaron? Why do you want to question Schmidt? Did Garcia find out something about her daughter?" Rossi said the last sentence only after making sure he was out of earshot and that Alsie was still asleep.

 _-"...Yes. But that's not what this is about. Not completely." Hotch answered, his 'yes' hesitant. He continued by explaining that Garcia had discovered a photograph of a woman who matched the sketch of their unsub. "The unsub's name is Voigt. Shelly Voigt, and apparently she's Schmidt's cousin..."-_

"What?" Rossi gaped, his eyes widening as he stared at Alsie's hospital bed. "You mean she's the one with the tetrodotoxin...? She..." The senior agent let out a curse followed by a small prayer. This new info made him realize how serious the incident that occurred between the two women had been. It could easily have ended differently.

 _-"Dave? What is it? Was Voigt with Schmidt?"-_

Rossi took a calming breath and started to explain what had happened. Spencer however, having quietly noted the change in Rossi's demeanor as he spoke with Hotch, had approached. Close enough that he heard the elder agent mention the poison, his brain connecting the dots even before Rossi explained things to Hotch.

Spencer's first reaction was to turn back to Alsie, terrified. It quickly faded as he realized that if the small woman had been injected with tetrodotoxin, she'd have likely succumbed to it already. His fear rekindled as he considered the possibility of the poison having entered Alsie via a different way, one that was slower. There had been a struggle...

"Reid...?"

Spencer suddenly turned back to Rossi, his eyes locked on the scratches on the other man's cheek. Despite the low likelihood of Shelly's nails having contact with the poison, especially since quite some time had passed without Rossi exhibiting any symptoms of tetrodotoxin poisoning, he was still fearful.

"You really should have the doctor check that again, Rossi." Spencer said, next bombarding the other agent with questions about possible symptoms. His worry obvious in his tone and body language.

"I'm fine." Rossi replied, shaking his head at all the symptoms Spencer listed. This prompted Hotch to ask if something was wrong, to which the senior agent briefly explained that he had been scratched by Shelly earlier. Hotch's response was the same as Spencer's, that it was better to be cautious since tetrodotoxin was more lethal than cyanide. "Look, Hotch, I'm fine. So is Alsie. The only one not all right is Shelly, and she's in the ICU..."

Rossi paused, recalling the blonde's condition. According to the doctor he spoke to about Shelly, the woman's wounds had stopped bleeding but she had developed respiratory issues.

Spencer caught the look on Rossi's face and quickly left the room to talk to both Alsie's doctor and also Shelly's. His concern geared more toward the former.

Rossi finished up his conversation with Hotch, forgetting until he'd already hung up that Hotch had mentioned that Garcia had found out information on Alsie's daughter. He was considering redialing Hotch to ask about the child when Alsie's doctor entered the room, having been informed by Spencer of her possible contact with the poison.

0

Greg Linnet smirked, his eyes cold as he glared down at the forty-something year old woman. Her arms were bound to a large pipe behind her with barbed wire and rope, and her legs were spread apart. Twenty pound weights were tied to her ankles, preventing movement more effectively than rope or duct tape.

"Heh." Linnet knelt down, an iron poker in his hand. The tip deliberately sharpened so as to cut into skin easily. He pushed the tip against the side of Leah's face, drawing in a breath of anticipation as the woman flinched and regained consciousness.

Her eyes widened at the room, filled with sharp and deadly instruments of torture, some downright horrifying. Others seemly innocuous. Leah cried out as Linnet slid the sharpened poker across her cheek, slicing through the skin. The phrase 'like a hot knife through butter' didn't come close to the ease with which he made the cut.

"Ahh!" Leah gasped, tears blurring her vision. Her cheek was quickly covered by blood, which dripped down onto her chest. She realized then that she'd been stripped, every article of clothing she'd been wearing had been removed. Instinctively she tried to close her legs, feeling exposed, but the weights tied to her ankles stopped her. She strained against them, but only succeeded in spraining one of her ankles. "Ah."

"Heh, heh." Linnet laughed dryly, his raspy voice stinking of liquor. "That's not going to work, love. But keep trying."

"What...please, why are you..." Leah swallowed, her eyes terrified. The man before her, even while kneeling, was menacing. The way he stared at her, his unblinking eyes roaming over her hungrily, sickened her. Her gut roiled at the thought of what he was going to do to her. "I...please let me go...I won't say anything..."

"Heh, heh. I can't get over how different you are." Linnet cupped Leah's bleeding cheek in his palm, drawing in an aroused breath as he felt the blood flowing over his fingers. The way Leah flinched in pain further increased his enjoyment. "...She never begged."

Leah closed her eyes, lips trembling. Her brain was overwhelmed from fear, and she couldn't understand what Linnet was talking about. All she knew was she had gone with him to ask about the girl she'd left with his grandparents. She'd hoped for answers, not...not whatever this was.

"Please, let me go. I..." Leah pleaded, only to have her words cut off by Linnet pulling suddenly on the leash end of the dog-choke collar placed around the woman's neck. It was the kind with metal barbs that dug into the skin when pulled. Leah desperately gulped for air, unable to breathe until he released his grip.

"That's no way to act, love." Linnet whispered, pressing his clothed body against her. He breathed in the scent of her hair, a scent mixed with that of blood and fear. "Your girl was much better behaved."

Leah's eyes, having been shut tight against the man and the room, jolted open at his taunt. She gaped at him in horror, sickened more than she'd ever been.

"You...to Leigh...? You did this...?" Leah stumbled over her words, realizing just how much she failed Leigh. And just how deviant this man - no, monster - was. "She was only eight...you..."

Linnet smirked, his face inches from Leah's. "That's funny, love. Considering that when you dropped her off with us, the poor thing was damn near comatose. Took her near a year to walk longer than a few steps without stumbling."

"You...you sick..." Leah attempted to yell at the man, the next moment faltering as she thought about how the child must have felt. She started sobbing, her stomach churning with guilt and regret.

"Heh." Linnet scoffed, about to cut Leah again with the poker, but stopped. The sound of a door handle being jiggled as though someone was trying to open a locked door broke through the cellar. Linnet quickly taped Leah's mouth shut, placed the poker on its mount among the other similar implements, and hurried to the door.

Leah lost sight of the man, but heard him ascending a flight of stairs before opening the door.

"Mon cheri. You're supposed to be asleep." Linnet said, his voice carrying well enough that Leah heard him. She couldn't however hear who he was talking to. "All right, all right. Come here."

Leah strained to hear more, but was left with silence as the door shut and the man walked off. She heard his heavy footsteps, and thought it strange that she didn't hear those of who he was with as well. The thought only lasted a moment before she started crying, her body cold and exhausted.


	34. And If Forgetting, Recollecting

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 34** : And If Forgetting, Recollecting

 _1990:_

 _"Who...who was that?"_

 _Spencer glanced up at his mother, brow furrowed. The expression on Diana Reid's face as she stared after Alsie and her mother was difficult to read. He'd never seen it before._

 _"Mom?"_

 _"Who was that girl you were talking to?" Diana asked again, grabbing her son's hand. She continued to stare ahead, toward where the woman and daughter had been. Only when Spencer fidgeted, his mother's grip a tad too tight, did Diana shift her focus to her son. "Spencer?"_

 _"...Adrienne Leigh Crawford." Spencer answered, staring up at his mother. He chewed his lip trying to figure out if Diana was having one of her good days or bad. "I was teaching her how to play chess."_

 _"...is that so?" Diana replied after a moment, her expression quickly changing to a happy one as she gazed down at her son. It seemed whatever emotion or thought had troubled her seconds ago had vanished._

 _Spencer smiled back, and proceeded to talk non-stop about Alsie._

x

Spencer awoke abruptly, having fallen asleep in the chair next to Alsie's hospital bed. Several hours had passed since the small woman had been admitted, enough that it had grown dark outside the room's window. Blinking away the blurriness of sleep, he glanced at his watch. His eyes widened in surprise as he noted it was after nine.

His brow furrowed as he wondered why neither his team or the hospital staff had woken him. It had to be past visiting hours or near enough to it.

"Oh! You're awake." Garcia chirped, having just stepped into the room holding two large cups, one with tea and the other with coffee. She smiled at Spencer, then glanced over to the slumbering Alsie. "I was just about to wake you. Hotch wants to talk to you."

The bubbly woman handed him the cup of coffee, smiling warmly.

"Thank you." Spencer took the proffered cup and gave a small smile back. He then threw a worried glance at Alsie, reluctant to stand up. It was only then that he realized that the petite woman was holding onto his hand. Sometime while Spencer had been fast asleep, Alsie had awoke long enough to grab the genius agent's hand, before returning to sleep.

"You two make an adorable couple." Garcia chirped again, her eyes lighting up at the scene.

"What..? Uh, no. Um...that's not..." Spencer sputtered, shaking his head. He then proceeded to gently pull his hand out of the sleeping woman's.

"Mmm." Alsie grumbled, her eyelids fluttering as the movement and sounds woke her. "...huh? Spencer?" She whispered, the corners of her mouth twitching into a furtive smile as she woke enough to recognize him. Her brown eyes gazed up into his. She was about to say something but stopped, and simply flashed a demure smile.

"Oh. I didn't mean to wake you, Alsie." Garcia said approaching the bed. She then proceeded to ask Alsie if she was all right or if there was anything she needed. "I could go get you something to eat or drink."

"I'm fine." Alsie replied softly, sitting up. It felt strange, being attended to with so much zest and care.

"...I'll go see what Hotch wants." Spencer mumbled, reluctant to leave Alsie's side. Not after everything that happened earlier. Garcia's presence and bubbliness reassured him, though, that Alsie would be safe and comfortable.

Spencer stepped out into the hall hesitantly, his eyes flitting back to look at Alsie every few seconds. He had the strangest feeling that the woman would disappear or that something would happen to take her from him. It was like a shadow was lurking just out of sight, waiting for its moment. It was a sensation that no amount of reassurance could diminish.

"Reid." Hotch called out, having just noticed the younger man exiting Alsie's hospital room.

"Hotch. Garcia said you wanted to talk to me." Spencer approached the older man.

"Yes. But first...is Schmidt awake?" Hotch glanced toward the door leading to Alsie's room.

Spencer nodded, his eyes searching the unit chief's face. "...do you need to question Alsie about what happened?" He asked quietly after meeting the other man's eye.

"Unfortunately, yes." Hotch replied. "Though the doctors found no indication that Schmidt had come in contact with tetrodotoxin, Voigt wasn't as lucky. She experienced full respiratory collapse on top of already losing quite a bit of blood. She was pronounced dead twenty minutes ago."

Spencer drew in a breath and grimaced, his stomach knotting. His thoughts on Shelly mixed - he hated her for attacking Alsie in what was likely some misguided revenge attempt, but he hadn't wanted her to die. She was Alsie's friend - or cousin, according to what Garcia had found out, which Alsie would need to clarify. She was also the only one able to explain what had happened, and why.

"Only two people know what happened in that apartment, and one of them just died." Hotch said, his voice quiet but firm. "I believe it likely was self-defense, but we need to question Schmidt about it. As well as confirm if she knew what Voigt did, poisoning men."

"Hotch!" Spencer exclaimed, his doe-like eyes widened considerably. "Of course not! Alsie wouldn't have been friends with Shelly if she knew!"

Hotch gave the younger man a look. "The two women were cousins, and Schmidt did have a relationship with James. Garcia was able to confirm earlier that the two lived together in a house Schmidt inherited from her grandmother until a little over three years ago."

Spencer blinked, thrown off by the information. Somehow, despite what Alsie had told him about her and James, some part of him had clung to the possibility that it hadn't been serious. That Alsie's pregnancy had been an unexpected result of a fling and not that of a serious relationship. Learning that the two had lived together in the same house stirred up a sense of jealousy in Spencer that he knew was unfair.

"...it's a big coincidence that Schmidt was in a relationship with James, who raped and mutilated at least three women before their relationship as well as eight more after it ended. And that Schmidt's cousin Shelly Voigt is responsible for at least two deaths, one a rapist-murderer and the other a sexual deviant." Hotch continued, his words being processed quick and quietly by Spencer. The younger man furrowed his brow and was about to ask what Hotch meant by the last bit. "Victor Cutler has an identical twin, and it's likely that he let his twin have intercourse with his wife, Susan Cutler, without her knowing it wasn't her husband."

"That's..." Spencer made a face, shaking his head. The next moment he returned to what Hotch was saying about Alsie. "Hotch, Alsie couldn't have known about James' or Shelly's criminal activities. She...she couldn't. Besides, if she knew of either beforehand, she wouldn't have been caught off guard by Shelly's attack." Spencer insisted, though a small part of him wondered. Alsie had D.I.D, and it was possible that one of her alters could've known about James' or Shelly's crimes.

"Perhaps you're right. But we will still need to question her. Both her and James. Not just about Voigt, but also about what happened three years ago. With their daughter."

"What?...Wouldn't that be something Rossi and Alsie should discuss privately?" Spencer narrowed his eyes in thought, his brow furrowed. It was clear from reading the older man's body language that he must have missed quite a bit by being asleep.

Hotch shook his head and started to explain. "Schmidt and James' daughter may not be dead."

"What?" Spencer gaped, feeling confused but also happy at the older agent's words. His joy at the possible good news quelled itself as Hotch elaborated, delving into what Garcia had discovered. That Alsie had been struck by a car near the end of her pregnancy by an unknown driver.

"After hitting Schmidt with his car, the unsub then cut into her abdomen and took her unborn daughter. Her pregnancy was far enough along that the child could've survived, but the police were unable to locate either the baby or the kidnapper."

Spencer's eyes widened into saucers. His stomach felt like it'd been punched. How could something like that have happened to Alsie? Who would've wanted her child that badly? And why hadn't Alsie told him that part?

He turned back toward Alsie's hospital room, mulling over what Hotch just told him. His expression revealed an intense mix of confusion and hurt. It was worse than his jealousy, but the idea that Alsie had lied to him about her daughter or at least withheld part of it, felt like a betrayal.

"Reid, she doesn't know." Hotch said, interpreting the younger man's body language correctly.

"...Huh? What?" Spencer turned back, his eyes wide with questions.

"According to police and medical reports, Schmidt fell unconscious not long after the unsub started cutting her abdomen. She nearly died, and when she came to weeks later she presumed by the way the doctors and nurses were acting that her daughter had died. No one told her any different, since it was assumed likely that the child had been killed. The cuts made to Schmidt's abdomen weren't done by a trained hand."

"So...she...Alsie was lied to by her doctor?" Spencer felt sickened. Though his title of 'doctor' came from his PhD's and not a medical degree, he still felt horrified that someone with that title would feel justified to lie to their patient. Especially such a horrible lie.

Spencer quickly noticed by Hotch's expression that there was something else. Something potentially worse.

"What is it? Hotch?"

"Rossi spoke to the physician that oversaw Schmidt's case three years ago. According to that doctor and confirmed by a nurse that was also working at the time, James told the doctors to lie to Schmidt. He insisted on it."

"What? But that...he...he left her when Alsie was almost six months pregnant. Why show up? And why lie to her...?"

"James was listed as her emergency contact and she hadn't changed it after he left, so the hospital called him." Hotch paused, refraining from mentioning that Alsie still apparently hadn't changed it. Something he and Rossi had been surprised to learn earlier from Alsie's doctor. "Why James showed up and why he insisted the doctors lie to Schmidt, we'll need to ask him about directly."

"...who's going to tell Alsie?" Spencer asked, his voice barely audible. Remembering how distraught the woman had been at the bookstore when she told him about her daughter, as well as how distressed she'd been earlier today, he wondered how she would take the news.

"Since it'll be contradicting a serious lie that she never doubted, she'll have to hear it from someone she trusts." Hotch replied, watching as the younger man absorbed his words, but missed what he was implying. Or perhaps the possibility hadn't occurred to the other agent? "Reid, she trusts you."

"Me? I..." Spencer blinked, shaking his head slightly before considering the idea. "We haven't known each other that long...we did meet as children one time, at a park, but as adults we...we haven't spent much time together, aside from the cafe..."

"Reid, it's obvious Schmidt trusts you." Hotch replied, recalling that morning when Alsie was suffering from her migraine and had clung to Spencer, and how she had looked at him moments ago in her hospital room. "You're the only one who can tell her."

Spencer was about to protest, feeling a twinge in his gut as he thought about telling Alsie. It was shocking, but potentially good news he would be telling her, if her daughter did end up being alive. If her daughter wasn't alive though...

"Reid...?"

"All right, Hotch." Spencer swallowed back his doubt, and flashed a small, nervous smile. "I'll tell her. But...could it wait until morning? Or at least a few more hours? I don't think Alsie will be able to deal with all this at once."

"If you think it's best..." Hotch replied carefully, curious at Spencer's hesitance. "But it's already been three years since Schmidt was falsely told about her daughter's death. Three years since the kidnapping, postponing any longer will only be detrimental to locating Schmidt's daughter."

Spencer chewed on his lip, unable but to agree with Hotch.

0

Rossi sighed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The scratch marks that Shelly had made on his cheek were angry and red, and the words she'd said to him echoed in his thoughts. Her anger when she'd recognized who he was and how she referred to James as devil spawn, infuriated him. At the same time, he felt guilty, because though he knew it wasn't his fault what happened to James or what his son did as an adult, Rossi still felt responsible. James was his son.

What sort of parent wouldn't feel some tendril of guilt in similar circumstances?

'Damn...' He sighed again and shook his head. So many lives had been irreparably altered because of one lie thirty-six years ago. A lie, he felt, he should've seen through. Or at least questioned.

"Rossi," Morgan spoke after entering the restroom, the sound of the door opening and closing missed by the distracted senior agent. "It took some convincing, but James agreed to answer some questions, and the prison warden agreed to allow it to be tonight rather than wait until morning. So JJ and I are going to head there now. Are you sure you don't want to come along...?"

"I can't, Morgan." Rossi replied, shaking his head as he faced the other man. "After everything today...I just can't." He stopped himself from saying he doubted he could handle learning anything more about James. Good or bad. It was too painful.

Morgan glanced over the other man. "...All right." He paused, taking a moment to consider his words. "You know we're all here for you. And we're going to do everything we can to not just find Somerfield and bring his sorry ass to justice, but also find out whoever it was who took Schmidt's baby. And hopefully, when we do, you get to finally meet your granddaughter."

Rossi, having been fully composed during the start of Morgan's speech, swallowed at the mention of his granddaughter, his eyes tearing up. Learning about her existence had been the only truly positive thing to come out of the ordeal with his son. And the chance that she was alive and out there somewhere, waiting to be brought home, filled him with hope. He was sure finding her would make everything he experienced these past few months more bearable.

"...I know." Rossi finally managed to answer, his voice slightly hoarse.

Morgan nodded and respectfully left the room, understanding that the other man needed to be alone.


	35. How Near Had I Forgot

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 35:** How Near Had I Forgot

 _Nevada_ :

George Alvarez leaned back in his chair and sighed, about ready to call it a day. He should've been on his way home hours ago, but something his client Somerfield said over their lunch-meeting bothered him. Despite their meeting and that everything they discussed was protected by lawyer-client privileged, Somerfield hadn't been forthright.

Alvarez was sure the wizened man had been lying through his teeth. Add to that the way Somerfield had skirted over the reasons he sought legal counsel in the first place...Alvarez was having doubts he could advise the man further. Or that legal counsel was the real reason Somerfield retained him in the first place.

"George." A knock on his opened office door and the sound of his name pulled Alvarez out of his thoughts. "I thought you were done with work hours ago. That you were going home at 3?" The man who stood in the doorway instinctively looked at his watch as he spoke, noting that it was after 5.

"I was. I..." Alvarez stood up and rubbed his forehead. "...I could use a drink."

"That bad?" The other man commented, refraining from asking for details. He knew how Alvarez acted when something was troubling him with work and also outside of work. This was the former. "...do you want to join me for take out? Take a break from clients and cases."

"...you're not going home?" Alvarez asked, after noticing the other man motioned toward his own office.

"Uh...not yet. I put in for some time off, so I was getting all of my clients' paperwork in order for whoever's taking over my workload while I'm away."

"...how much time are you taking off, William?" Alvarez studied the other man, curious. He'd known the other man for a while and never known him to pass a case or client over just to take time off. "Is everything all right? Your wife and son...?"

The man gave a sad, self-deprecating sigh. "Aside from the fact I haven't seen either of them in years...? They're fine, I'm sure. If anything was wrong, I'm sure Spencer would barge in here...or his team would." William Reid made a face that revealed that what he'd just said was what he hoped would happen. Though he honestly doubted it would.

"Your son doesn't keep in touch? That must be tough."

William Reid shook his head. "Honestly, that's my fault. I walked out on them when Spencer was a child. I don't blame him for still being angry."

"All right." Alvarez replied, not knowing what to say, having never had children. He and his wife had tried, but were unable to conceive. Then his wife was diagnosed with ovarian cancer five years ago, leading eventually to a hysterectomy. "What is it then? Something's bothering you. William?"

"..." William Reid seemed like he wasn't going to answer and had turned to leave. But then he surprised Alvarez by handing him an article cut from a magazine. "You read about this, right?"

Alvarez took the article, recognizing by its title that it was about the child-switch kidnappings that'd taken place nationwide. Starting as far back as forty years ago, maybe longer. "Yeah, I know about it. It's horrible. All those families...those children..."

William Reid nodded, his expression saying there was more to his interest in the case than just as a reader. He studied Alvarez, as though hunting for what the other man thought.

"Will..." Alvarez' eyes flitted to the article, scan reading the words. He blinked, one of the names popping out. "...Dr. Morland Somerfield? The FBI are searching for Somerfield as a person of interest in the case?"

Alvarez shook his head, frustration and anger filling him as he considered what he and the wizened doctor had discussed. Not once had Somerfield mentioned about being sought by the FBI or that he was connected to this nationwide case. Their talks had simply been about things like malpractice and patients suing their doctors. Alvarez had been under the impression that Somerfield had lost a patient and wanted legal counsel for a pending malpractice suit.

"George..."

"William, why did you have me read this?" Alvarez demanded, not sure what he was shocked by more. Learning about his client's duplicity or that his co-worker had brought him that info, which would likely prevent him from being able to do his job.

"It...it's not what you think." William Reid replied, explaining that he never wanted to sabotage his coworker. That his intent wasn't to take a client away from Alvarez. "I..."

William Reid paused, before motioning the other man to wait while he went to get something. Alvarez, however, followed the other man, glowering. It wasn't until he was handed a folder, which appeared years, maybe decades, old that Alvarez's anger switched to confusion.

He took it and opened it. His eyes widening at what it contained.

"William, this..."

0

 _D.C area:_

"What? No. That isn't what...my daughter died." Alsie said slowly, her heart having stopped at Spencer's words. Her eyes darted from one to the other of the agents, suddenly wishing that she had told Garcia to stay rather than agreeing to speak with the two men alone. "She...she wasn't...didn't...No."

Hotch stood quietly off to the side, studying Alsie's reaction, while Spencer squeezed her hand.

"That is what happened. You were hit by a car three years ago, and the driver of that car cut your daughter from your womb." Spencer repeated, his brown eyes widening at the distress on the petite woman's face.

Alsie continued shaking her head, her own brown eyes not straying from Spencer's. "It...no...I...I would know...if...if...I would've remembered..."

"You passed out almost immediately after the unsub started cutting you. And you didn't regain consciousness until almost a month later." Spencer continued, keeping his voice gentle. He bit his inner cheek as Alsie shook her head, the news that they both thought would cheer Alsie up seemed to have done the opposite. It didn't appear to register to her that this meant her daughter might still be alive.

"No...the doctors and nurses all said...I asked them...they said that she died..." Alsie managed to say, squeezing Spencer's hand with every pause. "He...he told me as well...he..."

"I'm sorry, but you were lied to. The doctors...the nurses...they thought it was kinder..." Spencer swallowed, the anger he felt at Alsie's doctors three years ago was overshadowed by his concern for the woman.

"How could it have been kinder?!" Alsie snapped, surprising the two agents. She snatched her hand away from Spencer's, her eyes livid. "Telling me that my daughter died? Kinder?! They...and James...he..."

Alsie turned away, glowering at a memory. She swallowed back the sudden nausea that filled her stomach, and took in a deep breath.

Hearing her mention James, Hotch neared the bed and shot Spencer a glance. One that the younger agent missed, being distracted by Alsie.

"...Miss Schmidt, you were aware that James visited you briefly in the hospital three years ago?"

Alsie shifted her glare towards Hotch, who noticed both the held back tears and anger in them. "Yeah, I...I was in and out of consciousness that day but...yeah." Her brow furrowed, her brain whirling with thought. She suddenly grabbed hold of her arm, where the the nurse had attached an IV to administer medicine and nutrients while she'd been unconscious.

"Alsie...?" Spencer and Hotch both noted the strange action with curiosity and concern.

"He...James..." Alsie pulled in her lip, chewing on it as she mulled over the memory. "I...I don't know how he got his hands on it...but he...that day..." She sighed bitterly, and closed her eyes. Only to open them again a second later, shaking her head. "He injected it into my IV...I..."

Alsie voice broke off and she pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them close. She looked so vulnerable, huddled into a self-comforting ball. Completely oblivious to the worry in Spencer's face and the growing realization in Hotch's.

"...what?" Rossi's horrified voice caught the other two men off guard, neither having realized the senior agent had entered the room.

"Dave..." Hotch started to say, understanding what Alsie had been in the midst of explaining as well as why Rossi was horrified by it.

While waiting for Alsie to regain consciousness, he and the older man had read her medical files from three years back. The day Alsie alluded to, when James had visited her, was the same day that the poor woman's condition had suddenly worsened. The hospital had determined the cause to be a bad reaction to her medication, assumed at the time to be the result of a mix up.

Now, with what Alsie just revealed, it seemed that James may have been responsible for it.

Rossi, instead of responding to Hotch, simply shook his head and left the room. Completely unable to handle or fathom why his son would do such a thing. To try to kill the mother of his own child.

"Dave." Hotch called out to the other man, having followed him back into the hospital corridor. "Dave."

"Aaron, don't. I can't..." Rossi stopped, and turned back towards the other man. His thoughts were on his son's victims thirteen years ago, the ones that had later been killed. He had adamantly denied the possibility that James had been involved in their murders when Hotch first told him, but now...

"...Dave, this doesn't prove James is a killer. Schmidt didn't die."

"Don't, Aaron. Don't try to..." Rossi took a steadying breath, his expression between livid and pained. "He tried to kill Schmidt, he injected her with a drug that interfered with her other medication...he..."

"...Schmidt didn't die though." Hotch repeated, emphasizing that fact. "And she was in the hospital at the time, where there was always a chance she'd be revived. If James really had wanted to kill her, he could've waited until she was discharged. Or at any time while they were living together."

"...Aaron..." Rossi shook his head, but also allowed the other agent's words to sink in.

"Dave, when we found out about James' other victims that were murdered years after their rapes, you insisted James wouldn't have killed them. You profiled that he would only kill someone as an act of mercy." Hotch paused, allowing a moment for his words to sink in. "Think about it. Schmidt was in the hospital, having just suffered a huge trauma. Physically and mentally. She'd already flatlined twice and been revived, on top of it all she believed her daughter, that she'd tried so hard to conceive, had just died."

Rossi slowly nodded, understanding what Hotch was suggesting. He glanced back down the hall towards Alsie's room.

"Add to that, the fact that when James resumed his sexual assaults on women three years later, he didn't choose any that resembled Schmidt...but rather avoided his previous 'type'." Hotch let Rossi mull over what he said, and refrained from reminding the other agent that James had attempted a suicide-by-cop.

"...he cared about her..." Rossi mumbled, surprised by the realization. "...James didn't choose against his type on purpose as a countermeasure to throw off our investigation. He did so because he had to. He couldn't bring himself to attack women who reminded him of Schmidt..."

"And he likely insisted on telling her their daughter had died as a way of giving her peace of mind. That she would be reunited with their daughter after death." Hotch added quietly.

Rossi mulled things over, visibly less upset than he had been just minutes ago. He couldn't condone anything his son had done, but he was thankful that Somerfield's experiments hadn't turned James into a cold-blooded killer.

He started to speak then stopped, something else suddenly occurring to him.

"James...doesn't know Schmidt is alive. He likely believes he succeeded in killing her, and, adding to that losing his daughter...those were his stressors. And then finding Amy Wagner again was his trigger. The reason he resumed his attacks."

"Dave..."


	36. To Comprehend a Nectar

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 36:** To Comprehend a Nectar

James glared at the prison guard as he was handcuffed to the table to await his visitors. Apparently the prison staff thought him too dangerous to not be shackled. Though he supposed attacking the on-call prison psychiatrist during a check-in that afternoon wasn't smart.

To be fair, that bastard had made a comment that he couldn't leave unpunished.

He waited quietly as the door opened again and in stepped his visitors. His lips twitched as he caught sight of the woman agent, and then her companion. His eyes gleamed as he recognized Morgan from his arrest and sequential interrogation.

"Ah." James mumbled, focusing on the other man. He barely even glanced at JJ who sat down next to Morgan. "I wondered how long it'd take before you came to question me again."

"James Wag..." Morgan started to speak, only to be interrupted by the other man.

"Rossi. James Rossi. Call me that." James goaded, smirking at the way Morgan seemed to flinch at the name. It was obvious the other agent still had difficulty reconciling his connection to David Rossi.

"All right." JJ jumped in after glancing at Morgan, who seemed stuck between playing James' game or barging out of the room. She too felt shocked at the way the other man insisted on using that name. He hadn't before. "James Rossi...we're here to ask you some questions."

James stared at JJ, his dark eyes narrowed.

The next moment he smirked and leaned back, hindered only by the way his arms were handcuffed to the table top. His body language was clear - he had no intention of answering any questions, and had only agreed to this questioning to mess with them. "Ask away."

Morgan glowered at the man across from him, but refrained from reacting to the attitude by reminding himself of who James was. And that he was here in order to help figure out who had taken Alsie's baby - Rossi's granddaughter.

"James," JJ continued after sharing a look with Morgan. "...we're here to ask about your daughter, and her mother Allison Schmidt..."

James immediately tensed, his eyes gleaming. He glared at JJ, then at Morgan, studying both agents with a renewed vehemence. It was clear that, whatever the man had thought they'd come to question him about, this was not it. Nor was it welcomed.

"There's nothing to ask about. They're gone." James spoke after a moment, his tone no longer goading. Nor sarcastic. Instead it was angry and cold, as were his eyes. "...dead."

"No, they're not." JJ replied, searching the thirty-six year-old's face. His eyes were filled with loathing, but for once he seemed not to be enjoying himself.

"...you're lying. They died three years ago."

Morgan shook his head. "Alsie survived the accident, as well as the injection you gave her when you visited her in the hospital."

JJ and Morgan watched as James reacted to the information, that Alsie had survived and that they knew what he'd tried to do. His eyes widened and he leaned forward, staring at his bound hands. His eyes remained locked on his hands, but without seeing them for a moment or two. He then slowly shifted his eyes back to the two agents.

"...what about Jem?" He asked, the glower he had had shifting into more of a concerned gaze. He fidgeted with the chain binding his hands to the table.

"Gem?" Morgan repeated the new name, trying to fathom who the other man referred to. His surprise at James' change in demeanor stopped him from making the connection until after the other man replied.

"Our daughter. Jemma. With a J not G...That's her name...well, what it was supposed to be anyway..." James returned to staring at his hands, refusing to look at either agent.

"...we haven't found her, but we're looking." JJ said, her tone instinctively changing into a reassuring one after hearing how deaden James' sounded. It was evident that he had already given up on finding his daughter, and expected them to deliver news of her death.

"James..." Morgan spoke, his earlier frustration at the other man's attitude significantly less. Though it was possible he was faking it, the deadened tone in his voice matched that of a few other parents Morgan had dealt with over the years. Parents he knew cared about their missing children, but who had given up hope. Or had it taken away by confirmation of death.

"...go on, gloat. Like you want to." James suddenly spat, glaring across the table at Morgan. The latter flinched in surprise, the next moment shaking his head.

"Why would either of us gloat?" JJ asked, her expression confused and concerned.

"...because I couldn't protect my child either..." James replied, picking and scratching at his fingernails. His eyes however were still on the two agents across from him. "...I couldn't protect either of them."

Morgan's eyes widened. The tone of voice James used as well as what he said, unexpected. It was more than remorse or regret. It sounded like guilt. "...James, do you know who took your daughter?"

James didn't respond, but only shifted his gaze back to his hands.

"James, if you want to help your daughter. To help Jemma, you need to answer our questions." JJ spoke, and then repeated Morgan's question. "Do you know the man who took your daughter? Who took Jemma?"

James shifted his eyes back to the two agents, but otherwise didn't respond. Not for a few seconds. His gaze flitted from one agent to the other, as though trying to figure out what they were thinking. "...have you found Somerfield?"

"Not yet. But we're looking for him." JJ replied, while considering whether to mention that he hadn't answered their question. "Trust us, we're going to find him and make sure he answers for everything he's done to you, and to all the others he and Connell took."

"..." James scowled, but didn't reply. Just picked at his fingernails, which seemed close to bleeding from the subconscious abuse.

"Ja..." JJ was about to re-ask their earlier question but stopped, an idea occurring to her. "...do you think Dr. Somerfield took your daughter?"

James stopped abusing his fingernails and glared at JJ. "Who else would it have been? He wanted her. From the moment Kenneth Connell told him about Alsie's pregnancy, he wanted her."

"Somerfield knew about your and Schmidt's daughter?" Morgan asked, his gut feeling like it'd been punched. Beside him, JJ glowered while thinking about Somerfield, her motherly instincts strengthening her disgust for the horrendous man who dared to call himself a doctor.

"Yeah, he knew. Connell said as much when he called." James narrowed his eyes, his nails pressing fiercely into his palms, enough that it seemed likely he'd break the skin. He suddenly stopped however and glanced at his hands, as though only then noticing the pain.

The two agents shared a look, concerned. Both by James' self-injurious behavior and by what he had just said.

"Kenneth Connell called you? When was this, James?"

"Alsie was at an obstetrics appointment." James replied in a low voice, not looking at either agent but rather at his hands. Specifically at the reddened indentations his nails had made in his palm, then at the swollen skin around his picked at nails. "It was her second appointment that week, she was paranoid. She didn't want to have another miscarriage." James fell silent, his brow furrowing. It took a few more moments before it became obvious that he wasn't going to continue.

Morgan studied James quietly, what the other man just said not quite adding up. "Why did Connell call you, James? He was Somerfield's partner, why would he warn you that Somerfield was going to take your daughter?"

"It wasn't a warning." James replied, glowering at the other man. His voice laced with bitterness and an undercurrent of anger. "It was a game. An experiment, just like all the others. He wanted to see what I would do. Who I would choose."

"Choose?" JJ repeated the word, a sickening feeling growing in her gut. She glanced at Morgan, who seemed to have also realized what choice Somerfield and Connell had forced James to make.

"Whether I would give him my daughter or kill her mother..." James continued before either of the agent could form their question into words.

"That sorry son of a..." Morgan cursed, while JJ scowled and pursed her lips. Though she mentally cursed Somerfield, the fact that James had tried to kill Alsie hadn't escaped her.

"You picked Jem..." JJ whispered, only to have James interrupt.

"No. No." James denied, shaking his head violently, his face and voice intense. "I didn't. I cou...I refused to choose. Refused to play his game. Not with what was mine. Not with Alsie or Jem."

"Then what did you do? Connell clearly threatened you, and your family. You did try to protect them, right?"

James scowled at Morgan. "I...went back. Back to that bastard's institute." He paused while across from him the two agents shared a look, one that asked if they should question the man what he'd expected to accomplish. James saw and read the look, his eyes narrowing. "I planned on making sure that bastard knew he couldn't bully me anymore. I was done being his guinea pig."

"...Were you planning to kill him?"

James glowered at the two agents, but didn't answer. Not even after JJ repeated the question.

"James..."

"What I planned on doing, isn't relevant." James spat, his dark eyes vehement. "That place was abandoned when I got there. Some sort of fire had burned it to ruins a year or so before, according to the locals. Somerfield wasn't there anymore."

"What did you do then, James?"

"..." James stiffened, his expression pure hatred. "What do you think? I looked for him. Then not long after, I heard what happened to Alsie. I knew then. I knew. Connell must have called to get me to leave."

"All right." Morgan said after a short silence descended on the room. He thanked James for cooperating and then motioned for the guards to return the man back to his cell.

It wasn't until James had been escorted out of the room, that either agent spoke.

"Do you believe him? About Connell and Somerfield taking Jemma?"

"Maybe. But why not wait until Alsie went into the hospital to give birth, like with all the other children they stole? Attacking her and ripping her child from her is such a different M.O." JJ answered and shook her head, her arms crossed. "Not to mention it's much more dangerous. To both the mother and the baby."

"Maybe that was the point." Morgan mumbled, feeling sickened by the thought that had occurred to him. "Maybe Connell or Somerfield wanted to punish James for not choosing? For not playing their sick game."

JJ glared at Morgan, shaking her head. "No. Unless we find proof that Alsie and James' daughter died...I'm not giving up on finding Jemma. For Rossi's sake. And for Alsie's."

"I hear you." Morgan agreed. "But what happened to Schmidt doesn't make sense then. Connell and Somerfield were still getting away with their scheme, so they would've waited until Alsie went into labor."

"Maybe they didn't want to wait. Or maybe James is wrong, and someone else took Jemma?"

"That would be one hell of a coincidence. Someone takes the child after Connell gives James that ultimatum?" Morgan mulled things over, he and JJ starting on their way out of the prison. "Do you think Schmidt knew? About Somerfield or about Connell's call to James?"

"I don't know. If she knew, why didn't she doubt the hospital when told her daughter was dead?" JJ asked, a question to which Morgan had no answer.


	37. Requires Sorest Need

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 37:** Requires Sorest Need

Spencer bit his lip as he gazed down at Alsie, who still hugged her legs close to her chest. The petite woman seemed so vulnerable, curled into a ball, that he tried reaching out to her. Yet she flinched and pulled away from his hand when he'd attempted it.

His throat tightened and he froze for a second, his hand halted mid-way on its path. He'd simply wanted to push the hair from her face, so he could meet her eye and reassure her things would be all right. That nothing that had happened to her today or three years ago or during her childhood was her fault.

"Alsie, Alsie." Spencer crouched down beside her bed, so that he was able to glance up at her. To see her face rather than have it be hidden by their height difference and the way Alsie was huddled up. He swallowed when he saw that her cheeks were wet. "It's all right. It'll be all right."

Alsie peeked down at Spencer, her eyes reddened from her silent tears. For a few seconds she didn't say anything and simply gazed down at him, her brown eyes delving into his. Her lips twitched, hidden against her knees, while she thought quietly.

"...they lied to me." She mumbled, her vision blurring. She refused to blink however, and instead struggled to keep any more tears from falling. "Why does everyone always lie?"

"That's...Not everyone's a liar. I haven't lied to you. And I won't start. All right?" Spencer replied. Feeling an almost instinctive urge to comfort her, he reached up to push her hair from her face. He paused though, stopping his hand tentatively just an inch from Alsie's hair. He bit his lip, the way the petite woman had flinched and pulled away earlier causing him to hesitate.

Noticing the uncertainty in Spencer's eyes, Alsie gave a small smile and reached for his hand.

"...I'm sorry." She whispered and cradled his hand with hers, marveling at how much bigger his hand was. She suddenly felt much smaller. Her knitted brow and eyes darkened in thought.

"There's nothing you have to apologize for." Spencer replied, confused by the apology, as well as by how comfortable it felt to have his hand cradled by Alsie's. He thought about the dream he had had earlier, after he'd fallen asleep beside Alsie's bed.

Alsie simply smiled sadly, her lips shrinking into such a line that her mouth seemed non-existent. She grasped his hand even tighter in hers and cleared her throat, the action more to hold back her tears than to prepare to speak.

"...Alsie?"

"...have you ever fallen for someone you knew you shouldn't?" Alsie asked, her voice nearly inaudible, and even being so close to her, Spencer wasn't able to catch it all. She quickly shook her head when he started to ask her to repeat the question. "Never mind. It's not important."

"Al..."

"So...um, hm...my daughter...you think she's alive?" Alsie asked instead, struggling to get each word out. Her puffy, brown eyes stared down into Spencer's.

"...I believe it's possible." Spencer replied, his nervousness causing him to speak quickly. And without much stopping for breath. "Your child was taken through means of a Cesarean abduction. The unsub went through the effort of cutting your daughter from your womb, and the motive behind such an act is usually a form of maternal or in this case, considering it was a man who attacked you, paternal desire. Typically the goal of this kind of unsub is to keep and raise the child as their own."

Alsie sniffled, holding back a sob threatening to close her throat. Her eyes were downcast and her cheeks drenched with silent tears. "This is opposed to other...other...sexual motives, correct?"

Spencer nodded, squeezing Alsie's hand to reassure her. "It's likely your daughter is alive and hasn't been abuse. It's not a guarantee, but...I do believe your daughter is likely alive. So does Rossi and the rest of my team. We just need to find her."

"Okay." Alsie cleared her throat, her breath catching. "So my daughter's...out there and I...I haven't even looked for her...for three years? I...I haven't..."

"It's not your fault. You were lied to by people you trusted. By James..."

"But...a mother...as a mother, I should've...should've known." Alsie managed to breathe in deeply, steadying herself. But only for a moment, her throat sore from repressed cries and her voice hoarse. "A mother knows...or should know...if her child...if...what kind of mother doesn't...I..."

Seeing Alsie about to break down and possibly hyperventilate, Spencer wrapped his arms around her; Desperate to calm her down and lend some sort of emotional support. However he could only hold her while she cried soundlessly into his shoulder, no words of encouragement forthcoming.

"...Reid?" Rossi entered the room, his voice and the squeak of the door opening breaking the quiet. He sighed as his eyes alighted on the two, and he wondered if he should've waited. Perhaps it would've been best for all of them if they'd waited until morning to question Alsie. "Is Schmidt okay?"

Spencer turned toward Rossi, and shook his head slightly.

Rossi nodded his head, his hand back on the door handle. "I'll tell Hotch. And...you should probably both get some rest. I..." He gazed at Alsie, who had her face buried against Spencer. "Allison...Alsie, I promise you we'll find your daughter. James' daughter..." Rossi paused, trying to steady himself as he thought about the child, his granddaughter. "You probably don't know, but I have a daughter and grandson as well." He smiled a little as he thought about his daughter Joy and her son, about how he'd felt when he learned about them. He imagined how it would be once they found James' daughter. "Once we find your daughter, maybe you'd like to meet them?"

"...yeah." Alsie mumbled, flashing a shy smile. "That'd be nice." She swallowed, thinking about three years ago. "I...I was planning on meeting you, once Jem was born. I was going to tell you, about James, that he was alive. I...but after...losing Jem, I...I couldn't. I...I..."

"I understand." Rossi replied after a second, surprised by Alsie's revelation. Part of him wondered why she hadn't approached him anyway, but he understood at least part of the reason. If she had approached him with her story before they'd found out about James, he would've dismissed her as being crazy. Even faster than he'd done to his daughter Joy, and unlike with Joy, he wouldn't have believed Alsie at all. Not without proof.

"James...he never wanted you to know. We argued about it a few days before he left." Alsie continued, her soft voice the only thing audible. "I always thought that's why he left. But..." She swallowed and held tightly to Spencer's hand for support. "But after reading that article about him and what Shelly said...did he leave because he was...to those women? I..."

Rossi froze and took in a deep breath, unable to answer Alsie. It didn't seem that she'd expected an answer or really wanted one, since she immediately hid her face against Spencer's chest again.

0

Nevada:

"...ah, that wasn't so bad now was it, love?" Linnet chortled, his half-lidded eyes gazing down at the shackled woman. He smirked, an iron poker clenched tightly in his right hand. This one had been specially sharpened and warped so as to maximize injury from barbs running along its length.

"..." Leah Clemens flinched at the touch of the macabre poker as Linnet rubbed it over her abdomen. Then her thigh. The sharpened barbs scratched her flesh, leaving a trail of raw and bloody skin in its wake. "Please..."

"No, love, we're just getting started." Linnet smirked, but then put down the poker. Instead he picked up a camcorder and set it on a low table, one situated so that the camera could capture the woman fully. He chortled again, pressing the record button.

"Please..." Leah whimpered, shaking her head desperately as she saw Linnet pick the poker back up. "Please let me go. Please..."

"Heh." Linnet laughed and struck her with the poker, its barbs cutting into her thigh. His eyes widened with arousal as the woman screamed, the next moment he pulled the chain of the choke collar around her neck. "Quiet, love. Mon cheri is upstairs sleeping, I wouldn't want to wake her."

"...please..." Leah gasped, staring up at Linnet with fearful eyes. The man smirked, his gaze piercing into her, the hunger in his eyes saying she was nothing but a plaything.

The next moment he knelt down and brought his lips to her ear. Leah cringed at the feel of his breath against her skin, and at the stench of alcohol emanating from him. She tried to pull away but stilled as he whispered in his ear.

Her eyes widened and darted toward the camcorder, her face a mix of fear and horror.

 _'What..? No...'_

0

 _-"This is Alvarez. I apologize for the suddenness of this call, Dr. Somerfield, but a certain matter has come to my attention recently, and...I must insist on meeting with you asap. Please call me back so we can schedule a time and place to talk."-_

Morland Somerfield glowered as he listened to the first voicemail Alvarez had left, time-stamped 6 almost 7 the previous night. His eyes narrowed and alighted on the screen of his laptop. There displayed in full-screen mode of his web browser was an article about James and about 26 other children Connell had stolen.

He shook his head, fidgeting with his hands as he noted his name within the article. According to it he was a person of interest in the case and was being sought for questioning. The media refrained from listing him as a suspect in the case, but he knew he was. If the FBI had his name, it had to be because of James.

"If only Connell had gotten the child." Somerfield nearly snarled, his words and anger directed at no one. Just his computer and the hotel room. He wrung his wrinkled hands, while he listened to a second voicemail left by Alvarez, this one time-stamped at 5 that morning.

 _-"This is Alvarez again. I've tried to reach you last night, Dr. Morland Somerfield, in relation to an issue that I've just became aware of. It is imperative that you call me back."-_

Somerfield continued to wring his hands, his eyes glaring at the article. His attention only half on the voice-mails Alvarez had left. He wasn't naive, he knew it was only a matter of time before that lawyer found out. Alvarez wasn't even important.

What was important was finding Leah Crawford. Once he found her, and the child Connell sold her, he'd have leverage. Leverage that was more useful than simply the names of the families that the FBI had missed. Of course, if Connell had succeeded in getting James' child three years back, this whole fiasco could've been avoided.

He laughed mirthlessly at the same time as the third, and final voicemail, began.

 _-"D...Dr. Somerfield. This..." A new voice, not Alvarez', spoke. Somerfield stilled, recognizing the voice. He glowered at the phone as the voicemail continued. "...no, I can't...you don't want to call George back to explain, fine. But know this. If you had anything to do with..." The man's voice broke off for a few seconds, drowned amid a myriad of sounds in the background. One of which sounded like a loudspeaker announcing arrival and departure times.-_

 _'Shit.'_ Somerfield cursed as he pressed the end button, not needing to listen to the rest of the man's message. This was not something he'd expected, at least not this soon. Not before he found and spoke to the Crawfords. He cursed again, and picked up his phone, dialing a number.


	38. No Lid Has Memory Pt 1

_A/N: There are two memory/dream sequences in this chapter, just to give you a heads up/avoid confusion._

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 38:** No Lid Has Memory

 _-1993-_

 _"Addie, what happened? Why are you so pale?" Andrew Kendall approached the girl trembling just a few feet from him. His eyebrow rose in concern as she shivered and remained kneeling beside an old well. The same well that a local child had fallen down just the year prior. "What's that well doing uncovered?"_

 _"..." Alsie trembled, turning her face toward the man. Andrew could hardly describe the terror in that small face, or the round brown eyes flooded with tears. "I...I fell...I can't...I couldn't...Allie..."_

 _"Are you all right?" The man hurried forward, his heart thumping in his chest. His first instinct was to try to help the girl up, but despite his help she didn't seem able to stand. "It'll be okay. I'll carry you back to Mary's."_

 _Alsie shook her head, barely able to speak. The only thing Andrew was able to make out clearly were the words 'I'm sorry' repeated over and over. The girl refused his help, and tried to push herself away from his helping arms, only to fall back to the ground._

 _"Allie...Allie..." Alsie gasped, her wet cheeks gleaming beneath the sun-rays peeking through the forest trees. Her brown eyes met Andrew's, imploring the man silently, then shifting toward the well._

 _"Adrienne?" Andrew mumbled slowly, his gut roiling as the meaning of the girl's gesture dawned on him. He leaned over the well and looked down. "Oh god!" He cried out, his eyes widening at the young girl sprawled out at the bottom. "Is that Mary's Allie?"_

 _Alsie's breath quickened, her body trembling. "I...I...I'm sorry...I didn't...Allie wanted...I couldn't hold her...I..." She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself clumsily. Her arms were like her legs - unable to move properly. "My balance...I...I fell...I couldn't..."_

 _Andrew gaped at the slightly older girl, at first not believing what he saw nor what she said. It wasn't until she talked about losing her balance that it clicked. He suddenly understood, everything._

 _"It isn't your fault." He assured the distraught girl, picking her up. She struggled against his help though, albeit very weakly. Not that it meant she wasn't trying her hardest. She was. He paled as he realized how weak and uncoordinated the girl's movements were. His eyes flitted to the scarred right side of Alsie's face. "This isn't your fault. Let's get you home so I can get some help for Allie. All right, Addie?"_

 _Alsie nodded slightly, and tried to wrap her arms around the man's neck to help hold herself steady. Her arms shook, refusing to cooperate with her brain. She sobbed, once more repeating the words 'I'm sorry.'_

 _She continued to cry and apologize all the way back to Mary Schmidt's house. Not once even attempting to shift blame on the other girl, despite Allie having jumped unexpectedly on her back. An action that'd caused her to lose her balance when the younger girl's arm collided with her right temple._

x

Alsie opened her eyes abruptly, her skin pale as she lingered on the memory. Her red-rimmed eyes glanced at the wall clock, noting the early hour. Hospital visiting hours wouldn't start for another three hours.

"Allie..." Alsie mumbled, along with an apology. Her chest and eyes burned, as did her scarred temple. Her lips trembled as she attempted to sit up, her eyes widening when she noticed how unstable her movement seemed. _'No...'_

She swallowed, trying to calm herself. The weakness of her limbs and sense of vertigo couldn't be real - she hadn't had a problem with either since her fifteenth birthday, eighteen years ago. It couldn't...

She closed her eyes, trying to chase away the memory, and with it the psychosomatic effects it had on her.

It didn't help that the hospital seemed eerily silent, at least this floor. It allowed her brain to run rampant with memories and facts, many which she wished she could forget. But still quite a few she wished she could remember.

What happened between her and Shelly being one of the latter.

"...Jemma..." Alsie mumbled and wrapped her arms around herself, focusing her thoughts away from Shelly and onto her daughter. Her eyes felt sore, though physically her tears had dried up, completed depleted after the copious amount she shed the night before. _'I'm sorry...I haven't looked for you...I didn't...'_

Alsie shivered, her eyebrows oblique. She wiped her eyes, a few salty drops welling up and falling down her cheeks.

 _'How could I do the same thing as her?'_ She whispered to herself, her voice quiet enough as to be inaudible. Her lips trembled, and she delved into thoughts that she wished she could ignore. That she wished she could dismiss forever. _'As either of them?'_

"Umm..." The unexpected sound of someone breathing rhythmically across the room drew her attention. Her round, burnt umber eyes grew gentler as she noticed Spencer sleeping peacefully in a chair against the far wall.

A smile tugged at her lips.

 _'I told you to go home.'_ She mentally chided him, recalling how she had insisted he go home to rest, same as the rest of his team. He had agreed to do so, after she managed to calm down after hearing about her daughter, Jemma. She smiled poignantly at Spencer, feeling less alone from his presence. _'...I'm sorry...'_

She whispered softly to the sleeping agent, her voice too low and distant for him to hear.

0

 _-1990-_

 _He shivered, standing alarmed in the hallway. Everything was dark and imposing, except for the light peeking out from the bottom gap of his parents' bedroom door. He chewed on his inner cheek, about to call out to his mom or dad, but he froze._

 _It was muffled by the door, but he could hear his parents' voices. His mom's was high-strung and insistent, while his dad's was less audible and incredulous._

 _"Im...Impossible. You have to have been mistaken...that just can't...no."_

 _"I know what I saw, William. I know...god...why won't you believe..." His mom pleaded, he could hear her pacing and becoming more agitated with each step. "I saw her...she looks so much like her brother...I..."_

 _"Diana, I..." His dad hesitated, the man's voice remaining steady. Though it didn't sound quite right, there was a tinge of pain in his voice, not anger. It didn't sound like a normal argument._

 _He tiptoed closer to his parents' door, making sure to avoid the part of the floor that creaked when stepped on. He pressed his ear against the door, wanting to understand what was wrong. Why his parents were arguing, and so late at night._

 _"It just isn't possible. She died when they were babies. Just a few hours..." His dad faltered, taking in a deep breath and worrying him more. He'd never heard his father make such a sound, like how one's breath would catch from crying._

 _"I'm not crazy. I know what I saw." His mom repeated, her tone harsh and defensive. "Spencer saw her too. They were playing together."_

 _"Diana..."_

 _"If you were there, and saw them together, you'd know. I'm not crazy." His mother stopped pacing and took a deep breath, before suddenly sobbing. "It was her...it had to be...they look so much alike. So alike."_

 _He chewed his lip, confused. He realized his mom had to be referring to the girl from the park, but he didn't understand why she'd be upset. Or his father. He grimaced, recalling the girl and the woman who'd dragged her away._

 _He must have made a noise or perhaps breathed too loudly, since the next second the door swung open. Having been pressed closely against the door, he fell into the room as it swung open into the bedroom._

 _"Spencer, what are you doing? You're supposed to be in bed, asleep."_

 _He climbed to his feet and looked up at his parents, tentative. He started to ask why they'd been arguing only to be interrupted by Diana saying he should go back to bed. Before he could protest, she picked him up and carried him back to his room._

x

Thump!

Spencer awoke suddenly, his heart pounding. He quickly realized that the falling sound in his dream had actually occurred outside of it. His eyes widened, taking a moment to adjust to the low lighting.

"Alsie!" He gasped after scanning the room and noticing that she wasn't in her bed. His stomach knotted as he noticed that the light was on in the room's adjoining bathroom. He quickly hurried over, opening the door without hesitating.

"...Spencer, I..." Alsie mumbled, pressed against the wall of the bathroom. A large swollen bruise already forming on her wrist from where it'd hit the sink edge as she stumbled.

"Are you all right?!" Spencer took in the scene, his eyes wide with worry. They widened even more as Alsie tried to lift herself up but failed, not making it even an inch from the floor. He quickly hurried to call a nurse, despite Alsie shaking her head and mumbling not to.

"...ther...I...please. I'm all right...I..." Alsie mumbled, her eyes searching the taller brunet's face. It was obvious by the way her eyes were glazed that something wasn't right. "Don't worry...I'm all right...I'm fine...ss...ist...is fine..."

"Shh...it's all right. Just relax." Spencer held her wrist gently, trying to soothe the woman. He remained like that, holding her unwounded wrist, even as the nurses came in to help bring her back to the bed.

He refused to leave her side or let go of her hand. Though he made sure not to hinder the medical personnel in checking or bandaging Alsie's wounds.

The whole time Alsie continued to mumble that she was fine, though becoming confused when she referred to Spencer. Becoming increasingly concerned, he insisted that the brunette be sent for a CAT scan. Anything to make sure she hadn't hit her head.

 _'Alsie...'_ He gazed after her when he was finally pushed aside by medical personnel, who insisted he wait in the waiting area.

"But I'm..." He'd started to say, but faltered his brow furrowing as he recalled his dream. Though dream wasn't exactly correct, rather it was a memory. One he had blocked out after his father had left. _'What...?'_

He mulled over the memory, running through the argument he'd overheard his parents having. Now that it was no longer blocked out, he recalled each and every word.

His stomach clenched as he filtered through the dialogue. He swallowed, realizing the meaning to the partial argument he'd overheard - something that had evaded him as a child. Even now he shook his head, refusing to believe what his brain screamed at him.

"No. No." Spencer closed his eyes, wishing that that memory would vanished. Or that it'd be nothing more than a dream. It was impossible. Completely impossible. Wasn't it?

 _'...She looks so much like her brother...they look so much alike.'_

He shook his head, even as his mother's insistent words reverberated in his head.

"No. Nope. I would know...mom would've said..." He mumbled to himself, arguing against his deduction from his memory. It didn't help that Rossi's comment from last night also echoed in his brain. Spencer took in a deep breath, finally managing to set aside the memory. He thought instead of Rossi and the rest of his team, that he should call them. Especially Rossi.

0

 _End of Chapter: Reviews and thoughts are greatly appreciated._


	39. No Lid Has Memory Pt 2

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 39:** No Lid Has Memory 2

Spencer paced in front of the hospital's coffee machine, his brain shifting through all possible explanations for Alsie's loss of balance. This mystery effectively allowing him to forego delving anymore on the dream-memory or its implications.

He thought about the scarred right side of Alsie's face, and the bruises she had as a child. It was possible that the physical abuse she'd experienced as a child was to blame. Not just for her loss of balance and coordination, but for her D.I.D as well. Her migraines too likely stemmed from untreated head injuries she'd sustained as a child.

Spencer felt his stomach knot as he recalled meeting her in that park. The bruises he'd seen on her arms. Arms he recalled being slightly thinner than other children their age back then. Why hadn't he done more back then? And why hadn't he realized...

He swallowed, shaking away the last thought before he could complete it. He instead continued to pace.

"Reid, is Allison all right?" Rossi called out as he noticed the younger man by the coffee machine in the waiting area. After Alsie had been bandaged and her doctor had ordered multiple tests to be done to determine what had happened, Spencer had called Rossi.

"...she's getting a CAT scan and a full medical check-up. As well as a complete blood panel..." Spencer replied, listing off all the tests Alsie's doctor had ordered, while he continued to pace. Rossi's presence and concern allowed him to really put aside his unwelcomed memory.

"What happened? Could this be because of Shelly? Or the accident three years ago?" Rossi asked, his concern increasing just by seeing how agitated Spencer was. Knowing that Alsie was also the mother of his grand daughter contributed as well, since despite knowing her only a few days, she had at one point lived with his son. Not to mention how close she was to Spencer, who felt like a son to him even more than James.

"...maybe, I..." Spencer shook his head, knowing from the sickening feeling in his gut that neither was the case. At least not completely. "Rossi, I...I should've helped her. This is my fault."

"What? No, there's no way this is..."

"I noticed her bruises when we met as children. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't help her...I..." Spencer blurted, catching the other man off-guard. He proceeded to explain how he and Alsie had met at the park as children, and that he'd blocked it out. He managed however to stop himself from revealing about his dream-memory, which was something he seriously did not want to accept. "I must have blocked it out because I didn't protect her. I failed her..."

"No, kid. You were a child. You were both children. You can't blame yourself for what happened over twenty years ago." Rossi reassured the distraught man, his own thoughts whirling at record breaking speeds. His brow furrowed, deep in thought as he recalled all that Garcia had discovered about Allison Schmidt and what Spencer had just told him.

"But...Rossi, I..." Spencer chewed on his lip, realizing that the other man was right. Though he still felt sickened that he had failed Alsie when they were kids. "I should've told someone...I..."

"Are you sure you didn't?" Rossi asked carefully, his brain still shifting through everything known about Schmidt and what the younger agent was confessing. "You said you blocked out meeting her as a child, so you could've tried to help. Or maybe the girl from the park is a different one than Schmidt..."

"What? No. It was Alsie. That I definitely know. I didn't keep that blocked out." Spencer shook his head against Rossi's conjecture.

"You're sure...?" Rossi asked again, receiving a perplexed look from Spencer who reminded the older agent of his eidetic memory. Though, he conceded reluctantly, that it wasn't infallible since he'd managed to block out some of his memories from childhood. Mostly ones connected to his father.

"But Alsie is Alsie, the girl I met in that park. I wouldn't keep her blocked out..." His stomach clenched even as he said that, though he kept his dream-memory locked in the back of his brain. _'Not even if I have reason to...'_

"All right." Rossi conceded, nodding. "I'm just...a bit confused. Or missing something. Because, according to the records Garcia uncovered on Schmidt, she never visited Nevada, least of all lived there as a child."

Spencer started to respond, but stopped, his emotional state causing him to take longer to think. He gasped when he realized what was missing. "Oh, Adrienne Leigh Crawford. That's Alsie name. Well, what it was when we met in 1990."

"...what?" Rossi stared at Spencer as though the younger man was some sort of space creature. The next second it switched to a part angry and part confused look. "You didn't mention this before. You could've mentioned Alsie wasn't always Allison."

Spencer stared at Rossi, confused. "I thought Garcia would've found that out already. I mean there'd be a record of it, right? If she was removed from her home and adopted or changed her name."

"No." Rossi shook his head and answered slowly. "Allison Schmidt was never adopted, never changed her name. Not even when she moved in with her grandmother after her parents died when she..." Rossi paused, recalling the year Spencer just mentioned as when he and Alsie had met as children. His eyes widened and he cursed.

"What? Rossi..." Spencer started to ask while the older agent mumbled about how they should've had the younger man read the records Garcia found on Schmidt.

"You and Alsie were the same age, when you met, in 1990?" Rossi mumbled, waiting for the younger man to nod. "The real Allison Schmidt was already living with her grandmother in West Virginia at the time. Not to mention she's a year or so younger than you."

Spencer was about to reply, to deny what the other man was saying when they were interrupted.

"Reid, Dave, how's Schmidt?" Hotch approached them, stopping when he noticed the strange body-language between the two.

"That's...a good question." Rossi replied, watching Spencer as the younger man took in all that they'd just discussed. Hotch gave Rossi a questioning glance. "Alsie isn't the real Allison Schmidt, Hotch. She lied about her name."

"What?"

Spencer shook his head, denying what Rossi was saying. Though at the same moment he felt his stomach clench at the truth behind the statement. "There has to be a reason for it. Alsie wouldn't just..."

Hotch's brow furrowed, his eyes flitting between the two men. "What happened? Dave? Reid?"

"Alsie isn't Allison Schmidt. She lied about that. Her real name is Adrienne Crawford." Rossi replied, raising an eyebrow when Spencer automatically corrected him by saying it was 'Adrienne Leigh Crawford.'

"Okay..." Hotch mulled over what he'd just learned, as well as the expressions on both agents' faces. Rossi's was considerably irritated, while Spencer's was frightened and anxious. "Let's talk about this in a private room."

"I thought she was adopted and had gotten her name changed that way." Spencer explained even before Hotch bid them to follow him into a quiet, unoccupied room. "I didn't think she just stole an identity. And...I'm sure there's some reason why..."

"Reid," Hotch massaged his temple, then crossed his arms, his expression very stoic and serious. Rossi having followed, simply remained quiet, studying Spencer. And going over all he knew about Alsie, all he could profile. "Is there anything else about Schm...Miss Crawford, that we need to know? Anything at all you haven't told us?"

Spencer hesitated, considering his response. His stomach roiled and he felt the dull throb of a migraine starting in the back of his head. He swallowed.

"Alsie...she..." He took a deep breath to calm himself, the dull throb getting more pronounced. "Alsie has D.I.D."

"Dissociative identity disorder?" Hotch crocked an eyebrow, pausing as Spencer nodded. "How did you find that out? Did she tell you...?"

"No." Spencer cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, in an effort to stave off what threatened to be a massive migraine. Something that he hadn't needed to worry about for years. "Um, Sh...Shelly told me. And...um...I met Alsie's alter Ana..."

The two older agents shared a look, but didn't voice their thoughts. Not that they needed to.

"Look, I...I know I should've mentioned about the D.I.D, especially when it became apparent that Alsie doesn't remember what happened with Shelly, but..." Spencer winced, covering his eyes as they became more light-sensitive. Something that didn't go unnoticed by Hotch or Rossi.

"Are you all right, Reid?" Hotch asked, his concern, and Rossi's, shifting away from Alsie's deception to the younger man's well-being.

"I...I'm fine."

"Maybe you should sit down, take a break." Hotch replied, quietly noting how the younger agent winced and squinted his eyes as though in pain. He immediately thought back to Spencer's bout with migraines around three/four years ago. And everything that that had led to. "Garcia can look into Alsie's background before she became Allison."

Spencer attempted to shake his head, but flinched when it aggravated his headache. An action that caused both older men concern.

"You're not fine." Hotch said, and prompted the younger man to once again sit down.

Spencer resisted only a few seconds longer before sitting down, his stomach clenching. He bit his inner cheek, his eyes shut against the wall and ceiling lights. Though neither the pain nor the light-sensitivity bothered him as much as the nausea gnawing at his stomach. Despite knowing that nausea was a common symptom during a migraine, it worried him. This was the first time he'd experienced it during a migraine. Furthermore, it'd been so long since he'd had a migraine, let alone one this bad.

"I...I'm fine...Alsie..." Spencer mumbled sitting in a chair, unable to look up at Rossi or Hotch due to the lighting above them. He sensed however that neither believed him. "Don't...don't upset her."

"Don't worry, kid." Rossi replied, his tone quiet so to avoid exacerbating Spencer's migraine. He studied the young agent, feeling the strongest sense of deja vu. One that gnawed at his stomach and refused to fade. His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed, questions forming disjointedly in his head.

"Ah!" Spencer flinched as Hotch's phone rang, the suddenness of it amid the quiet room intensified its effect. If there'd been any chance of convincing Hotch or Rossi that his headache wasn't as bad as it seemed, it'd just vanished. "Ah..."

"Hello? Hotchner, here." Hotch answered the phone quickly while exiting the room, his intent to get done with the call quickly and then to get a nurse or doctor to check on Spencer. "Yes. That's right."

Hotch paused, listening to the caller. Each second becoming more perplexed and suspicious.

"You're kidding." Hotch muttered, not believing what the person on the other end was saying. "He turned himself in? When?" His eyebrows rose slightly as the caller answered. "His lawyer...? All right. Bring him to Quantico. My team will handle things from there."

Hotch hung up afterwards, mulling things over.

"Aaron? Who was that on the phone?" Rossi asked, having just exited the room where Spencer was sitting. While Hotch had answered his phone, the senior agent had quietly called over a passing nurse to check on Spencer.

"First, how's Reid?" Hotch asked, to which Rossi replied that a nurse had just gone in to check on the young agent.

"So...you gonna tell me what that call was about?"

"Somerfield's contacted the Bureau a few hours ago through a lawyer. He's turning himself in."

"What? You're kidding." Rossi gaped.

"He's being flown in from a FBI field office in Nevada to Quantico as we speak."

"Nevada? What was he doing there?"

Hotch just shrugged. "No idea. Especially since the lawyer he has is his sister's lawyer."

Rossi mumbled a few choice words, more than willing to head back to Quantico to meet the man that had orchestrated his son's kidnapping. As well as possibly his granddaughter's. He paused though, glancing to the room where Spencer was.

"Go to Quantico and question Somerfield. I'll stay here to make sure Reid's okay and to question Schmidt."


	40. No Lid Has Memory Pt 3

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 40:** No Lid Has Memory Pt 3

William Reid sighed, parking his suitcase against the hotel bed before sitting down. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. Though he couldn't relax enough to sleep or even lie down. Just sitting down and not pacing took an effort, and it was only because his feet were sore that he refrained from it.

He ran his hand through his hair, and glanced at his briefcase. Inside which was the folder that he'd shown Alvarez. He inhaled slowly, folding his hands in front of his mouth briefly as he considered the documents and how the other lawyer had reacted to reading them.

Sighing again, William Reid took out the folder and opened it. He took out the first sheet gingerly, his eyes growing moist as he read it. His hand shook as he held the document, a medical report issued by the hospital so many years ago. Thirty-three years to be precise.

"He's going to be mad we never told him..." William muttered to the empty room, and placed the document down beside him. Afterwards taking out the next item in the folder, a paper-clipped stack of pages from a detective agency. The top page was dated twenty-five years ago, while the last and most recent page was from twenty-two years ago.

 _'I should've kept searching...'_ William Reid quietly berated himself, shaking his head and placing the documents back inside the folder. The quiet of the hotel room felt suffocating and allowed his thoughts to fester.

0

"Is it true?" Was the first thing JJ said as she entered the bullpen area. Her eyes shifted from Morgan to Lewis, both of whom seemed as worked up as her. "Somerfield turned himself in?"

"Agents are bringing him in now. He was all the way on the other side of the country."

"How did he manage that without leaving a trail?" JJ asked.

"He paid cash and used a false name. One that he stole from among Connell's victims."

"Damn..." JJ muttered, then paused considering something else she'd been told. "What about Reid? And Alsie? Garcia said something happened with Reid and that there was new information on Schmidt..."

"Reid's okay. He got hit with a bad migraine but he'll be all right." Morgan fell silent before answering the blonde's other question. Lewis however took over before JJ needed to ask about Alsie again.

"Alsie's name is Adrienne Crawford, not Allison Schmidt. She apparently stole the identity. Garcia is currently trying to figure out when she did so. All we know is that it was at least thirteen years ago, since that's around the time she and James met and she went by Allison by then."

"Damn. How is Reid taking it? Knowing that Alsie lied to him?" Her eyes narrowed when Morgan shook his head.

"He already knew. At least that her name was Adrienne, originally, not Allison. According to what he said to Rossi, he and Alsie met as children and she gave her name as Adrienne Leigh Crawford." Morgan took a moment before continuing, noting JJ's questioning glare. "Reid assumed her name changed due to her being adopted or whatever. He told Rossi that there were signs Alsie was being abused as a child. Bruising on her arms, not to mention that scarring on her face which seems old enough to be from her childhood."

"God..." JJ muttered, trying to wrap her thoughts around this new information. Between this new knowledge and her concern for Spencer, she felt overwhelmed. As did the rest of the team. "Has anyone questioned Alsie...Adrienne yet? She certainly has a lot of explaining to do."

"Hotch is taking care of that. But he said it might take a while since doctors are running tests and whatnot on her. He didn't give details, but something happened early this morning."

"Is she okay?" JJ asked immediately, concerned for the woman. Despite the lying about her name, so far everything else they'd checked into about Alsie was true. Including her relationship with James and her pregnancy three years ago.

"Not sure." Morgan replied, about to elaborate further when he noticed Rossi coming out of the elevator. He motioned toward the other agent with his head.

Noticing them, Rossi quickly approached. He immediately started asking if Somerfield had been brought in yet, to which the others replied that the plane he was being escorted on was still about twenty minutes from landing.

0

Alsie worried her bottom lip with her teeth, almost making it bleed as Hotch stood by her bedside. He hadn't said a word, other to ask if she could answer some questions, but she could sense his anger. More worrisome was that he'd addressed her as Crawford not Schmidt. After a few more seconds of silence, Hotch spoke.

"Why did you lie to us? To Reid?" He asked, his face stoic and his eyes discerning.

"No." Alsie shook her head, glaring up at the dark haired man with her sharp brown eyes. "I didn't lie to Spencer. I didn't. If he'd asked I would've told him."

Hotch studied her, her micro-expressions and tone of voice. Everything about her behavior appeared truthful, yet there was something nagging at him. Something about her, especially her eyes.

"Explain to me why hiding the fact you stole the real Allison Schmidt's identity isn't the same as lying." Hotch's eyes narrowed when Alsie shook her head.

"I didn't steal her identity. No." Alsie insisted, her voice a little high-pitched. But otherwise she seemed calm and in control, something that Hotch found disconcerting. Especially since he noted no signs of deception though she was clearly lying.

"That's a lie. You're not the real Schmidt yet you've been living as her. That's stealing her identity."

"No. No. I...didn't...I became her. I didn't steal..." Alsie took a few breaths, her eyes becoming moist. She looked away from Hotch, closing her eyes as she focused on a memory. "I...after Allie died, granny...Mary Schmidt, she...didn't want to let go. I...I became Allie so she wouldn't have to let go of her granddaughter."

Hotch, having been ready to tear apart whatever lie the woman was going to give, faltered for a few moments. Alsie's admission and her reason for the deception, threw him off completely. Of all the possible reasons, he hadn't expected this.

"When did the real Allison Schmidt die?" He asked after sitting down, noticing the quiet sadness in the woman's voice.

"...I'd just turned twelve. Allie was ten." Alsie breathed in slowly, tears running down her cheeks though she hid them by letting her hair shield her face. "We were playing by a well. She surprised me, jumped on my back. I...I stumbled...and...I couldn't hold her...I..."

Hotch nodded, taking in the story and mulling it over. He thought about the tests the hospital had run on Alsie after she'd fallen earlier. None of them had been conclusive, but there was a history of falls in 'Allison Schmidt's' medical files. All which occurred after the age eleven.

If Alsie was telling the truth, those records were hers not Allison's, and they strengthened her story.

"Is there anyone that can verify this? That Mrs. Schmidt took you in to replace Allison and that Allison died in an accident?"

"Andrew Kendall. He helped out granny Schmidt whenever he could. He was there that day." Alsie replied, calming herself by fidgeting with her hands.

Hotch was about to reply but froze, his expression taking on a strange look. The name Alsie had just said was familiar. He knew he'd heard it before, in connection to another case, and a little girl. His eyes widened as it hit him.

The Jane Doe that was found buried on that one case months ago! The one Andrew Kendall had insisted he'd killed, despite the evidence to the contrary. Alsie was referring to that girl!

"Mary Schmidt lived near the border between Pennsylvania and West Virginia, correct?" Hotch asked, barely waiting for Alsie's nod, the question more of a oratorical one. Alsie glanced at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. It was evident that she didn't realize why he'd asked that question. And he realized that it was probable that neither Mary Schmidt nor Kendall had told her what they'd done with the real Allison's body.

"Agent Hotchner, I..." Alsie started to speak after a moment or two of silence, but hesitated. The look in her eyes frightened and anxious. "...Is Spencer all right?"

"He's fine." Hotch answered slowly, the sudden question strange. He hadn't mentioned anything about the younger agent, aside from saying he couldn't sit in on this questioning. The nagging feeling from the start of this conversation came back in full swing.

"...he's not having an headache...?" Alsie asked, her voice soft and barely audible. Her brown eyes attempted to delve into Hotch's.

"How...what makes you think that?" Hotch asked, his eyes searching the petite brunette's face. Her body language, her hair, her eyes. The nagging feeling in the back of his thoughts grew stronger.

"I...never mind. That's not important." Alsie replied, averting her eyes after a few moments. Her hands fidgeted with the blanket covering her legs, and her voice sounded a tad off.

"I think it is..." Hotch said, picking up on the lie. Alsie didn't respond, but kept her face turned away. "What are you hiding? Is it something to do with Reid?"

Alsie closed her eyes, and bit down hard on her lip, most of her face still hidden by her hair. The question both upset and irritated her. "Just drop it. Please."

"No." Hotch shook his head, his voice firm but also not threatening. After learning about Alsie's alleged dissociative identity disorder, he and Rossi had decided that it'd be best not to antagonize her. To at least wait until she was cleared medically. "Miss Crawford, you..."

"No. 'Alsie.' Or 'Adrienne.' Not that name." Alsie looked at Hotch, her reddened eyes holding a blend of anger and pain. Her cheeks were puffy from soundless tears. Her lips quivered as she watched Hotch's eyes roam over her face, alighting on the scaring on her temple. "Not that...that family's name. No."

"...All right, Adrienne." He replied, the reason behind Alsie's reaction to the name 'Crawford' not too surprising. If she had been abused, especially violently enough that she still suffered the physical effects from it, it wasn't surprising she didn't want a reminder of it. The way she referred to the Crawfords as 'that family' and the tone she used seemed a tad off however. Though that may have just been the nagging thought that kept telling him that she was familiar.

"Hotch?" Spencer mumbled from the doorway, having just entered Alsie's hospital room, his brow furrowed. After finishing up talking with the nurses and other medical personnel, he'd headed straight to Alsie's room. The dream he'd woken from hours ago echoed in his thoughts, like it was on an endless repeat.

Spencer knew he had to talk to Alsie.

Closing the door quietly, he approached the bed quickly but also cautiously. Within seconds he noticed the redness of Alsie's cheeks, his eyes widening with concern.

"Reid, you should still be resting. Your migraine..."

"I'm fine." Spencer interrupted, his attention fully on Alsie. He studied her for a few moments, wordlessly. The next moment he turned to Hotch. "Were you questioning Alsie? Now? She's in no condition to be interrogated."

"Reid, I wasn't interrogating her." Hotch replied, but faltered as the nagging thought in the back of his head intensified. He quickly shifted his gaze from Spencer to Alsie and then back. His eyes widened a fraction though he betrayed no other sign of what had just occurred to him. "...I think the rest of my questions can wait for now."

Hotch excused himself from the room, the nagging thought strengthened by each passing second. Once he was in the hall, he dialed Garcia.


	41. No Lid Has Memory Pt 4

_A/N: I just started my vacation and will be on it until the 24th_

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 41:** No Lid Has Memory Pt 4

"Sir." Garcia answered Hotch, the phone on speaker. "I'm currently looking into Alsie's - Adrienne's - history. And I have to say, there's not much there. Birth records and some hospital records, but nothing as an adult."

 _-"Was she adopted or put into foster care?" Hotch asked, glancing back toward Alsie's hospital room. He was about ten to twelve feet down the hall.-_

"No, nothing. In fact there doesn't seem to be much record of her after she turned eight." Garcia replied, still perusing the files she managed to find on 'Adrienne Leigh Crawford.'

 _-"That's strange. She's just confessed to commandeering Schmidt's identity, but not until she was twelve and Schmidt ten." Hotch considered things for a moment, wondering if Alsie had been lying about when she took the other girl's identity.-_

"'Commandeering'? Sir?" Garcia repeated, the word choice a tad bit bizarre. "Anyway, how can a twelve year old manage to steal an identity?"

 _-"She had help. The real Allison Schmidt's grandmother took her in as a replacement after Allison died and gave her the identity." Hotch paused briefly, then continued, preemptively answering Garcia's next question. "There won't be any record of it, since the grandmother, Mary Schmidt, didn't report the death, but rather had Allison secretly buried. The Jane Doe from the case we had a few months ago, the one Kendall confessed to, that's Allison."-_

"Wha...that...her own granddaughter? What kind of grandmother just buries and replaces her grandkid..." Garcia gaped, unable to wrap her head around the audacity and heartlessness that would take.

 _-"It's possible it was to protect Adrienne. She said she and Allison were playing by a well and she stumbled while holding the younger girl. I'm not sure if it was an accident, though Adrienne's medical records as Allison do support the possibility."-_

"Why not report it then? If she was a child and it was an accident, there wouldn't be any reason to cover up the death. Right?"

 _-Hotch mulled over the tech analyst's words, his own thoughts running a similar trail. "There is one possible reason. Adrienne may have runaway from an abusive home, and any investigation into the accident could've led her abusers to her or got her sent back home. Is there anything in Adrienne's records to indicate abuse?"-_

"Just a mo', let me check..." The clacking sound of computer keys being pressed could be heard while Garcia searched the files. Her eyes widened then narrowed, from surprise and perplexity. "Huh. There's no reports for physical abuse, but the Crawfords were cited for neglect when Adrienne was brought to the emergency room suffering from severe abdominal pain, which turned out to be from appendicitis. There was an investigation into the Crawfords that revealed they never bothered bringing their daughter in for any needed medical care, and not because they were against medical care for religious reasons or such. They just never noticed when she was sick or injured. At least that's what they claimed when questioned by the hospital and child services. Because of that the Crawfords almost lost custody of both their children, Adrienne and her younger brother. Who, get this, they'd also named Adrian. Adrian Vincent Crawford. Seriously." Garcia shook her head, flabbergasted at the Crawfords. "Neglecting and possibly abusing their daughter wasn't enough, they had to take her name away too? It's not even like the two were twins, Adrian Vincent was born two and a half, nearly three years, after Adrienne Leigh."

 _-"..." Hotch's jaw stiffened, his brain sorting through what Garcia just said. The citing for neglect wasn't surprising, not if the Crawfords had also been physically abusing Alsie. The recycling of the name did seem strange though, especially when he considered the suspicion that nagged him. "Garcia, check to see if there's anything indicating the Crawfords abused or neglected their son."-_

"All right..." Garcia sucked on her lip, typing away. "That would be a no. According to his medical and school records, the Crawfords lavished him with attention and brought him to the hospital for even the smallest of colds. His sister on the other hand was completely ignored. Which is sad really, since that wasn't always the case. The Crawfords took really good care of the older Adrienne until their son was born. They had even enrolled their daughter in a special preschool for gifted children when she was eighteen months, but stopped paying the tuition not long after their son was born."

 _-"...eighteen months is a bit young to enroll a child in school. Even preschool. Are you sure it wasn't a daycare?"-_

"Nope. It was a preschool, and one designed for highly intelligent children. The school did require Mrs. Crawford to attend with Adrienne though, since she was a year younger than their minimum age accepted." Garcia picked up one of her glittery pens and started twirling it, trying to alleviate her anger at the Crawfords. "The school really must've wanted to keep Adrienne. After the Crawfords stopped paying the tuition, the school offered to waive all fees, even offered her a full scholarship."

 _-"...and the Crawfords didn't take it?" Hotch shook his head when Garcia answered that the Crawfords pulled Alsie out of the school. He sighed, and glanced back toward Alsie's room. The nagging feeling in his gut stronger than ever after hearing all this about the petite woman. "Garcia, pull up Adrienne Leigh's birth certificate and any other medical records for her birth."-_

"Sir? Okay..." Garcia was tempted to ask why, but got the feeling that Hotch wasn't going to answer that. At least not then. Finding the birth-date, she told the unit chief, and then told him the name of the hospital Mrs. Crawford had given birth in when prompted. She clicked her tongue at the date, intrigued by it. "Alsie's a week older than Reid and was born in the same hospital, that's totally bizarre..."

 _-"...What day did Leah Crawford take Adrienne home?" Hotch asked, not commenting on the tech analyst's last sentence. Though a knot had formed in his stomach at that bit of information.-_

"That would be..." Garcia gave a 'huh' sound once she found the hospital discharge record. "A week after she was born. Reid's birthday. That..." The tech analyst made a face, finding the information to be amusing and a wonder of fate.

 _-Hotch, however, sucked in a breath. His eyes locked on the door behind which Alsie and Spencer were talking. "Garcia, don't ask why, but pull up Reid's birth record as well as his mother's medical record for the birth. It's important."-_

"Ah..." Garcia nearly protested and asked why, even while she did what Hotch asked. But she stopped. Within seconds of opening the file, her eyes narrowed in confusion. Her lips were slightly agape as she skimmed the files. "Oh my...did you know Reid had a twin sister who died shortly after she was born? That's like...seriously..."

 _-"Damn." Hotch mumbled, the nagging feeling in his gut being proved right.-_

"Sir? What is it? What..." Garcia asked, concerned by the normally stoic, composed agent's suddenly sounding uncomposed.

 _-"That hospital was one Connell operated in during the early eighties. '81 to '84...correct?"-_

"Yeah, bu..." Garcia froze mid-word, her eyes widening as she figured out what Hotch was thinking. "No! That can't...no. Alsie and Reid...No! You can't think that...they can't be..."

 _-"I'm not fond of the idea either, but you've met Adrienne. You can't say you didn't notice the similarities. Her hair and eyes, her chin..." Hotch paused while Garcia let out some PG rated swears, which would've been amusing under different circumstances.-_

"...I honestly thought their similarities were just a fluke. Or the universe being nice. I never considered..." Garcia stammered, her eyes becoming moist, her stomach sinking into a bottomless pit. "I...you know what, sir, you have to be wrong. There's no way Connell switched the Crawford's daughter with the Re...Alsie. I would've found a money trail connecting them when I connected those other families to Somerfield and Connell's scheme. There's nothing like that with the Crawfords."

 _-"Garcia..."-_

"If you don't believe me, I'll run another search on the Crawfords' and check all their finances. I'll prove they didn't buy Alsie..." Garcia said, obviously upset. Enough that she even hung up on Hotch. _'I'll prove I'm right, and that Reid and Alsie are not siblings...'_

0

Spencer stood by Alsie's bed, his migraine still present though it was a bit more tolerable than earlier. The nausea was gone at least, thanks to some medicine he'd been given.

"Hey." Alsie smiled at him, slightly unsure how to take his silence. The moment he had stepped into her room, she could tell something was on his mind. Something important. Her stomach roiled as she thought about what it could be.

"Hey, back." Spencer reciprocated the greeting, including the smile, though his faltered after barely a second. His brain was whirling nonstop, and despite his headache, he kept thinking. Sorting through all he knew about Alsie.

He vividly recalled the dream he'd awaken from that morning. Plus the one from last night. Both dreams, nay, both memories he had blocked out after his father left when he was ten. As he recalled more of that month, he realized how unsurprising it was that he'd blocked it out.

It hadn't been from guilt from not helping Alsie, but rather because his parents had argued a lot in the days immediately following. The worst part was that that month, his mother had gone to 'visit friends' while his dad stood home to take care of him. Knowing about his mother's illness even as a child, he'd realized something was wrong. That something had happened to upset her, and possibly sent her to the hospital temporarily.

He had never found out what, and once his father left him and his mother, he'd blocked out all memories connected to the man. Including that month after he first met Alsie.

Spencer studied Alsie's face quietly. His brain shifted through all his memories of Alsie, each second of each conversation. How she'd seemed familiar, even back when they'd met as children. His brow furrowed as he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. Why he had refused to see what his subconscious mind had.

'The both of you are quite alike.' Spencer mouthed the comment Rossi had made last night, while Alsie had been unconscious. The older man's observation had struck him speechless, not because it wasn't true, but rather because it was. He and Alsie were uncannily similar.

And it wasn't just the migraines. Or their similar intelligence - how else would Alsie have stalemated him in chess as children when he'd just taught her the game? He could beat adults that had been playing for longer than he'd been alive! Or how Alsie seemed as avid a reader as he was, going by the sheer number of books in her apartment. Or how he felt at times like he knew what Alsie was feeling or thinking and vice versa.

It was the sum of everything, combined with the memory of his parents arguing that one night years ago. Particularly what his mother had said.

"Spencer...?" Alsie chewed on her lip, her eyes trying to delve into the agent's, to figure out what he was thinking. Her cheeks paled as she realized the gist what he had mouthed to himself.

"You asked me before if I recalled that day we met in the park. Which of course I do, but..." Spencer studied Alsie, having noticed her cheeks grow pale and how she'd started fidgeting with her hands. His gut twisted, and his migraine threatened to return, though thankfully it remained mild. He bit his lip, not wanting to voice the suspicion he had let alone accept it as truth. "...why did you ask it?"

"...it...does it matter?" Alsie mumbled, averting her gaze to her hands then towards the window. Spencer froze, recognizing the question and body language for what it was - a method to avoid answering and possibly divert the conversation.

He felt the truth hit him bluntly, not just about what his memory had meant, but that the woman before him already knew. Or at least had suspected the truth of their connection.

Spencer stared at Alsie, feeling the worst sense of betrayal he'd ever had. It was stronger than even when his dad left...it was worse than any sort of abandonment he'd experienced.

"I...Spencer, I..." Alsie whispered, returning her gaze to Spencer when he didn't answer. His face as easy a read as her own had been. Her deep, brown eyes were wide and desperately beseeching Spencer's.

"...when we met at the cafe, did you already know?"

"No." Alsie shook her head. "No. I didn't know." She fell silent as Spencer continued to watch her, his eyes recording her every micro-expression to memory. He shook his head.

"You suspected though."

Alsie hesitated, about to answer but instead chose to remain silent.

Spencer shook his head again, his brown eyes filling with betrayal. "Why didn't you say anything? Why did you not tell me the truth? That you suspected we were...are..." Spencer faltered, suddenly touching his lips. His stomach knotted, his cheeks turning red as he remembered the cafe where 'Ana' had kissed him.

"...I'm sorry." Alsie whispered.

Spencer didn't reply, his cheeks still red and his stomach a cascade of knots. He still hoped he was wrong, that what he'd remembered his parents arguing about could be explained a different way. There had to be another reason - another explanation.

"...we could pretend we don't know." Alsie mumbled, looking up at Spencer through the strands of hair covering her face. "No one needs to find out. Not even us, not for sure."

Spencer simply gave her a look, one that was a mix of incredulity and repulsion, but also slightly of hope. He shook his head against the latter, reminding himself through the statistics why it was a horrible idea.

If Alsie and him were related...If they were siblings...twins...

He shook his head, wishing he'd never remembered his parents' argument that night, or that he'd never overheard it. What his mother had said that night: 'she looks so much like her brother' and 'they look so much alike' he understood now had been about Alsie, and about how Diana had noticed the similarities between him and the young girl.

"...Spencer, the statistics don't matter. I...after the incident...after what happened three years ago...I can't..." Alsie spoke quietly, her eyes glazing over as she recalled the 'accident,' and its aftermath. Her soft voice spiked with bitterness. "...I can't ever carry another child to term..."

"What?" Spencer's eyes widened, horrified. Enough that he forgot his anger, for a moment. "Alsie...I'm sorry...I..."

"So..." Alsie swallowed, shaking away the memory. She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, folding her hands over her abdomen. "There's no risk. Besides..." She bit her tongue, reading Spencer's response in the look he gave her.

"That's...that's not..." Spencer backed away a step, shaking his head. His thoughts even more awry and overwhelmed than just before he entered the room. His emotions were just as jumbled and confused. He started to speak but stopped, thrice.

"Please. Spencer...I..."

"N..." He started to speak, shaking his head, when his phone rang. He quickly answered it, not even bothering to glance at the caller ID displayed. Regardless of who it was, even a telemarketer, it was an excuse to escape the current conversation. "Hello? This is Spencer Re..."

His eyes widened at the caller's voice, though not merely from shock. Anger creased his brow as he recognized the man who'd called him.

"What do you want?" Spencer grumbled, ready to hang up almost as soon as he recognized his father's voice. The first thought running through his mind was about how William Reid had gotten his number. Second was why the man would call or even think he'd answer. "Talk about what? There's nothing to..."

Spencer fell silent, listening to the other man despite his initial reluctance. He glanced back at Alsie, realizing in that moment how important knowing rather than suspecting the truth would be.

"Fine. We can talk. There's something I need you to answer as well." He took a breath, jaw set taut as he told William Reid where to meet him. After hanging up his cell a few seconds later, Spencer left the room without another glance toward Alsie. Even as she asked who had called.


	42. Morland Somerfield

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 42:** Morland Somerfield

Quantico:

Somerfield sat quietly, the agents who had picked him up from the airport leaving the room after his lawyer requested to talk with him alone. His wizened hands were folded on the table in front of him, his demeanor composed. His lawyer - his sister's originally - however wasn't as calm, though he gave the woman credit for maintaining herself publicly.

"Why didn't you come to me weeks ago?" She demanded once the door shut, her teal eyes livid. Unlike Alvarez, who exuded an aura of calmness, this lawyer, Lucille Sands, was feisty with a fiery temper. A temper which had served her well over the years. Somerfield certainly preferred her to Alvarez. "You evading the FBI wasn't the smartest decision."

"I know. Though I trust you to negotiate the best deal." Somerfield replied remaining calm, his eyes roaming over the contours of Sands body. "You are one of the best."

"I could've guaranteed you a better deal if you contacted me weeks ago. Before the FBI had time to investigate." She shook her head, glowering. Her temper however was already cooling down, and she gave the old man a look, having noticed his gaze. "What were you even doing over in Nevada?"

Somerfield merely smiled smugly, before leaning forward.

0

Rossi glowered at the door to the room where Somerfield was meeting with his lawyer, a coffee cup in hand so he had something to occupy him. He'd hoped that something would've delayed the man's lawyer from showing up until after he and his team had a chance to speak to Somerfield. To get him to confess before there was any talk of a deal.

"At least we have him in custody." Morgan offered standing not that far behind the senior agent. JJ and Lewis were close by as well. "He won't be able to hurt any other families or children."

"..." Rossi shook his head, taking a breath as he mulled things over. He hadn't known what to suspect when the old man turned himself in, whether the man would be remorseful or defiant. The smugness in the man's demeanor and the self-assured way he carried himself even as he was escorted by agents, didn't sit right with him. "Why now?"

He turned around to face the three other agents of his team, who each gave him a questioning look.

"Think about it. Somerfield has gotten away with his scheme with the Connells for over thirty years, he even managed to evade the FBI for weeks. Yet he just suddenly gives himself up?" Rossi shook his head, furious and concerned by what kind of motive the older man had. "It's not like he's full of remorse."

"I hear you. It's obvious he believes he has some kind of information that can get him a good deal. Or maybe he thinks we don't have a case against him." Morgan replied, understanding the suspiciousness of this turnaround.

"Then he's clearly misinformed. The team who took over the investigation searched his home and work, along with that of his sister's. They even discovered a storage unit he'd placed in his deceased wife's name. There were files going back to the sixties. Many concerning experiments done on children, mostly orphans or runaways, and much of it was similar to what James said he endured." Lewis crossed her arms as she spoke, wondering if the old doctor was growing senile or just hadn't cared about destroying the evidence. "He's not going to get much of a deal. The charges for illegal experimentation alone will ensure he's locked up for years."

"Yeah. Even if we can't connect him to all of the abductions, he's likely to spend the rest of his life in prison."

"And how long will that be? Ten, maybe fifteen years, seeing he's in his eighties already. While his victims have to live with the effects of his experiments. If they even survived them." Rossi seethed, feeling the urge to storm into the room Somerfield was in and sock the man in the jaw.

"I understand how you feel, it just doesn't seem enough." JJ grimaced, her thoughts on the children and especially what had happened to Rossi's son James. If she had had to endure something like this with either of her sons, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from attacking the one responsible.

"What if...what if he does manage to swing a deal?" Rossi mumbled, voicing the fear he had ever since JJ and Morgan had told him what James had said the other day.

"We won't let him. Nothing could possibly..."

"What if he knows where Jemma is? What if he and the younger Connell did take James and Alsie's daughter?" Rossi scowled, his eyes angry but also fearful. "If he knows where my granddaughter is..."

JJ, Morgan, and Lewis attempted to respond but couldn't. Unable at first to think of a way to reassure their friend. JJ was the first one to manage.

"It...it isn't likely Somerfield knows where she is. The unsub who attacked Alsie and took Jemma did so recklessly and outside of the hospital. If Connell or Somerfield were involved the abduction would likely have matched the other ones. The same M.O worked for twenty-eight other abductions, there wasn't any reason to change it."

Rossi nodded, inhaling in a calming breath. JJ's reasoning made sense and allowed him to fight against the fear of Somerfield getting away with his crimes. Though it didn't help his fear for his granddaughter. Since if Somerfield and Connell hadn't been responsible, then they had no leads at all on Jemma's abduction.

"Agents." Lucille Sands said after opening the door to the meeting room. "My client is ready to talk now." She quipped before reentering the room where Somerfield sat.

Rossi took in a deep breath, ready to finally meet the man who had stolen and hurt his son. The man whose skewed experiments ruined and twisted his son's life and mind.

He approached the room, JJ following him after briefly talking over with Lewis and Morgan about who would be best to join Rossi in the interview with Somerfield.

It didn't take long for the two agents to enter or sit down at the interview room table. The silence of the room following a few brief introductions was suffocating.

Rossi glowered at the man sitting across the table. Morland Somerfield's peppered hair and wrinkled face abhorrent to him. Next to Somerfield sat the doctor's lawyer, Lucille Sands.

"Ms. Sands, we understand that your client is seeking a deal regarding the charges leveled against him, correct?" JJ spoke, sitting down beside Rossi.

"That is correct. And I'd like it duly noted that my client came in willingly and with full intent to cooperate." Sands stood up straight, her teal eyes seeking out those of the senior agent. She stared into Rossi's dark hued eyes, her gaze intense.

"Duly noted." Rossi replied, his face unreadable. "As long as your client cooperates and gives a full confession to the illegal experimentation he conducted on children, and his part in Dr. Connell's abduction and child trafficking scheme..."

"Very well." Sands spoke after a brief pause, noting Somerfield's tilting his head in acquiescence out of the corner of her eye. "In return for his confession, we'll be seeking the minimum sentence to be served in a minimum security facility..."

"No." Rossi bristled, his livid eyes glaring sharply at Somerfield. "After the lives you and the Connells ruined? You deserve nothing less than to spend the rest of your life in a maximum security prison."

Somerfield observed Rossi carefully, while his lawyer protested that unless the terms she put forth were met, there wouldn't be a deal or confession.

"We don't need a confession. We have enough evidence for the illegal experimentation charges to put your client away for life. We also have connected him to at least four of the twenty-eight families Connell sold babies to." Rossi glared across the table, fighting the urge to lunge at the doctor. The man simply stared smugly back at the agent, something that rankled Rossi.

" _Only_ twenty-eight?" Somerfield asked, interrupting his lawyer who'd been on verge to speak. His smug look intensified into a fully confident one when the two agents' eyes widened, not missing the emphasis on the word 'only.'

JJ took in a breath, recovering from the shock quicker than Rossi. The possibility that there'd be more victims that they'd missed had occurred to them. They just hadn't been able to find them. "How many more were there?"

"Hm..." Somerfield pretended to mull over what to answer, teasing the agents with the possibility of not answering. "A half dozen, I suppose, give or take."

"Six children? You'll give us the names of six more children and families Connell victimized?" JJ asked, to which Somerfield tilted his head to say 'yes'.

"Provided the conditions stated earlier are met, my client will give you the names of the six families you haven't found." Lucille Sands said, sitting rigidly in her chair. Her teal eyes watched as Rossi bristled and stood up, glaring at Somerfield.

"...Excuse us for a moment." JJ piped up, noticing how close Rossi was to attacking Somerfield. She motioned for the older man to follow her out of the room, which he ignored at first. She persisted though, and soon she and Rossi both exited the room.

"We can't make that deal." Rossi seethed, able to calm down a little now that Somerfield wasn't in his view. "After all he subjected James to, he thinks he can spend a minimum sentence in a minimum security prison?"

"I feel the same way, I do." JJ started, her arms crossed as she thought. "But, Rossi, six more victims? There are six more families out there whose babies were stolen. Six families who think their children died, and six children going through the same hell as those others Connell sold. We need those names."

"..." Rossi inhaled angrily, not wanting to, but realizing that JJ was right. He understood all too well what the parents of the stolen children were going through. The pain of believing that their babies were dead. Some of the children were likely to be adults by now, but there were possibly others, like Jenna Fletcher, who were teenagers. He paused, considering something that had slipped his mind before. "I know we haven't found any evidence that Kenneth Connell had stolen babies like his uncle Tobias Connell, but..."

JJ nodded, quickly understanding the senior agent. There could be children that the younger Connell stole, children that would likely be young enough that finding them would really make a difference.

"We should make the deal only if Somerfield agrees to give all the names of both doctors' victims. If he leaves even one out...the deal is off the table." JJ said, to which Rossi agreed.

0

Alsie trembled at the solitude of the room, Spencer's abrupt and angry departure lingered in her thoughts. Her heart and head pounded, her mind filled with self-deprecating curses. If she'd only been able to explain, perhaps...

She flinched, her head suddenly throbbing. The pain situated around her scarred, right temple. She hissed and rubbed her eyes, trying to steady herself.

Was it her fault? It wasn't, right? Spencer shouldn't have gotten that angry at her, right? She hadn't known for a fact that they...and she still didn't know if it was the truth. Aside from the feeling in her gut. And even that wasn't something she trusted.

 _'Spencer...'_ She mumbled, the quiet of the room deafening. Her stomach clenched and she shut her eyes tightly against her surroundings.


	43. A Father's Revelation Pt 1

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 43:** A Father's Revelation Pt 1

William Reid entered the hospital courtyard concerned, his eyes searching for his son. He hadn't expected Spencer to agree to meet, let alone answer his call, so he agreed to meet his son here without thinking about the reason why the hospital. It wasn't until he'd gotten out of the cab that worry took a hold.

Did something happen? Was Spencer hurt?

He couldn't help worrying about his son, and he wondered why he hadn't had the foresight to ask Spencer why meet at the hospital and not a cafe or diner, or even Quantico.

"Dad." Spencer called out, glowering at the older man. His expression barely held any warmth, instead it was angry. Seething. Not that it was visibly noticeable, except to those who knew the younger man.

"Spencer." William Reid muttered, surprised by the level of anger he saw and heard in his son. It was such that he wondered why his son had agreed to meet. The thirty-three year old wouldn't talk to him at all normally, let alone when he was angry. Unless Spencer was going to accuse him of something.

William Reid considered his son, wondering if Spencer had agreed to talk in order to blame him for something.

"..." Spencer glowered at his father, part of his subconscious rebelling against demanding the truth from the man. Alsie's plea to simply ignore what they both suspected, to act like it was unknown or impossible, echoed in his head.

"It's been a while." William Reid uttered, suddenly uncomfortable. Calling his son had been a split-second decision, and he'd done so mostly because he thought he wouldn't get a response. Now that he was in front of his son, who visibly seemed fine despite the anger, his mind drew a blank.

"...What's that you're holding?" Spencer asked, ignoring his father's observation that it'd been some time since they spoke. His anger at his father, which had started to dissipate over the last few years, had returned to the same level as before he met the man as an adult. "Is...that's the folder you kept locked in a drawer in your study. The same one you grounded me for looking at when I was five..."

William Reid hesitated, raising up the folder so that it was in clear view of either of them. "That's correct. The same one..."

"...you started keeping it at work after that..." Spencer stated slowly, his brain wandering back to that age. It was so long ago, and he'd been very young, almost too young for even his eidetic memory to be accurate. Which had been the reason why he'd had such difficulty with recalling Riley Jenkins and had initially thought his father had been responsible. "It's thicker than it was before..."

"Yeah." William Reid said quietly, then sighed, before asking if they could sit somewhere. Preferably away from those coming and going from the hospital. Spencer agreed, though more from the fact that his gut had started brewing with nausea, than actually wanting to do so. Once the both of them were seated at a bench, William Reid started to speak. "Spencer..."

"...'Elsie'." Spencer mumbled, not at all paying attention to his father but rather to the memory he had of finding that folder. It'd been his fifth birthday and he'd noticed it on his dad's desk. He had just opened the folder when his dad had stormed in and ripped it away from him. "...that was the name on the top...paper..."

"Spencer? What's..." The older man's eyes widened in concern as the anger in his son's eyes was replaced with something else. It looked like the younger man had suddenly realized something that struck him senseless on top of horrifying him. "What is it?"

"...Elsie...Alsie..." Spencer swallowed, realizing at that moment just how long his subconscious mind must have known the truth. His young age that day, coupled by his blocking out everything connected to his dad, had hindered his recollection. But the moment he saw that folder, it returned. He had seen it, had seen the first thing in that folder's left pocket. It was a receipt for a headstone for a child. For 'Elsie'. Elsie Reid.

"Are you all right?" William Reid's concern for his son intensified seeing how upset the younger man was.

"Why...why did you never tell me? You never mentioned her. Neither you nor mom. Ever" Spencer spat, his tone scathing and hurt. He glared at the older man. "Even after I met her at that park?"

William Reid stared at his son, flabbergasted for a few seconds before realizing what the younger man meant. Realizing who he meant. "Spencer...I..."

"Were you ever going to tell me that I wasn't an only child?! That I had a sister? A twin sister?!" Spencer glared at William Reid, who had subconsciously held out the folder to the younger man. Not that he needed to peruse it to know what it contained.

The older Reid ran his hand through his hair and exhaled a breath he hadn't been conscious of holding. It felt like a weight had been lifted while he was also being pushed into a gauntlet. "Spencer, I never told you because...it never seemed...it wasn't something you needed to know..."

"Didn't need to know? I didn't need..." Spencer drew in a breath, his stomach roiling though thankfully his migraine hadn't returned. He didn't know if he could stop himself from shouting at his father if he had to endure crushing agony on top of everything else. "What about mom? Why did she never mention...she...you...both of you lied to me? Both of you...?"

"No. Spencer, your mother would never lie, not intentionally..." William Reid leaned back on the bench, and inhaled then exhaled a breath. "After the doctor told us your sister...didn't make it. Diana couldn't...she couldn't handle it. She...she eventually blocked out that you had a twin." He grimaced, trying his hardest not to sound bitter. "It was...a mercy for her. To forget. So I...I accepted that. And...I never told you because I...I didn't want to risk you mentioning anything to your mother. It probably wasn't the best decision, but your sister was...gone."

Spencer, nearly interrupting his father a few times since he thought the man's excuses would be selfish, fell silent at mention of his mother's distress. He wanted to angrily retort, to blame his father and shout at him for lying, but he couldn't. His father had lied to protect his mother, to allow his mother to escape a terrible memory.

"...when you came home that day, from the park, and started mentioning an 'Elsie', I didn't know what to think..." William Reid shook his head, exhausted. "Then you insisted it was with an A not an E, that it was a nickname based on that girl's initials, ALC. I..."

"...you and mom argued about her that night." Spencer mumbled, still glowering. "If mom had forgotten her..."

"Yeah. That did happen." William Reid mentioned, lips twisted slightly in surprise. "I forgot you overheard that argument. I was shocked as well when Diana came home and went on and on about the girl she saw you with. That was the first time your mom remembered you had a sister since..." He faltered, grimacing. "It didn't last long. She blocked out Elsie again. Perhaps, if I'd found..."

William Reid stopped, noticing how Spencer flinched hearing him say 'Elsie.' That alone wasn't what frightened him - rather it was noticing the redness around his son's eyes, and the moisture in them.

"Spencer, what...what is wrong? Why...?"

"You should've told me. You should've mentioned it. After the Riley Jenkins case was solved, you could've mentioned it. That I have a sister." Spencer scowled, though it was even less threatening mixed with his held back tears. What his dad had said, this truth, it was something he desperately wished could disappear. "...instead of leaving me unsuspecting..."

"Spencer, what...?"

"Reid, there you are...oh." Hotch's voice cut through the conversation, noticing only as he got close who was with the younger agent. "Mr. Reid, when did you arrive in D.C?"

"Late last night. I needed to..."

Before the older Reid could finish answering, Spencer stood up and stormed off. His face kept hidden from view.

"What? Reid?" Hotch started to call out to the agent, but stopped when it quickly became obvious that Spencer needed to be alone. That something must have happened. He turned back to the older Reid, realizing quietly what it was that likely upset the younger Reid. "Mr. Reid, what were you and your son talking about?

"Um. That..." William Reid's first instinct was to tell the other man it wasn't any of his business, but he didn't. There was a reason he came to D.C, other than telling Spencer the truth. That reason had to do with a case connected to the Bureau.

"It's about his sister right? His twin?" Hotch stated when the other man hesitated, though the hesitance was only for a few seconds.

"How did..." William Reid gaped, gazing at the agent suspiciously. Though it had more to do with how Hotch knew what he and Spencer had talked about than with the man knowing about the twin in general. His eyes widened when Hotch glowered down at him, making him wonder what he'd done or said to make the other man angry. "What's going on? First Spencer, now you...what...?"

"It's...it'll take a while to explain, but..." Hotch studied the man, his voice trailing off as he noticed the folder. Somehow when Spencer had stood up, the folder had been knocked open. His eyes twitched, noticing the papers it contained. One of which was an article about the Connell-Somerfield case. "You already suspect it. That's why you're here. You suspect the Connell Case is connected to your daughter..."

"Yes." William Reid answered quietly, and a bit unsure. He picked up the folder, making sure all the papers were stowed safely inside. "I don't have proof. Just a feeling. I know it's not likely, but..."

Hotch sighed, and motioned for the other man to walk with him back inside. "Mr. Reid, your daughter...I believe it is likely that Connell switched her with another family's child."

"...what?" William Reid's eyes widened, and he stopped, having just started to follow Hotch. "You have evidence? Proof?"

"We found enough to suspect. But no hard evidence, yet." Hotch said carefully. "A DNA test would..."

"...DNA test? That means...You...you found her? You know where she is? She's..." William Reid's eyes grew round as he stared at the hospital. "Is she in there? Is Elsie..."

"Al...?" Hotch paused, surprised upon hearing the name. That was until he remembered the name he saw written on one of the papers in the folder. It was the name Elsie, written with an E not an A. "Mr. Reid, I need to ask you. Did you ever meet the Crawfords or the girl they named Adrienne Leigh?"

"Shit! They did take her?! They're the ones...? Those..." William Reid cursed, anger filling him. He glanced at the folder he held, then gave it to the agent. "Here."

"What is..." Hotch started to ask at the same moment he opened the folder, glancing through the various sheets. His eyes widened at the report from a detective agency. "You looked for her. You looked into the Crawfords? Why? Did you know...?"

"No. Diana...she said she saw Elsie playing with Spencer at a park when they were kids. She was insistent, and I...I looked into it. The Crawfords vanished though and I couldn't find anything remotely like proof, so I...gave up. I put it down to Diana's...illness acting up. I did try again after I left, but...there was even less of a trail by then." William glanced downwards, recalling both times he'd given up searching for his daughter. The first time he'd done so because he felt his wife and son needed his attention more, and he honestly believed Diana had been mistaken. The second time - he didn't know why he didn't pursue it longer, though he had done so a year longer than the previous time. "...do you really suspect, that my daughter...that the girl the Crawfords had is really her?"

Hotch didn't respond for a few minutes, the other man's question prompting him to think about Spencer and Alsie. He knew he was the first of the team to notice the similarities, or at least the first to suspect, or allow himself to suspect, the reason behind them. He also understood how the younger Reid felt about Alsie, based on how Spencer acted with Alsie both at Quantico and at the hospital after Shelly's attack. And if that wasn't enough, the way Spencer stormed off just moments ago clinched it.

"Mr. Reid, you really should have told your son about his sister sooner."

* * *

 **A/N:** Alsie/Elsie are pronounced the same. Furthermore, in the upcoming chapters I'm going to use mostly just the 'Alsie' spelling, except when William Reid is referring to her.


	44. A Father's Revelation Pt 2

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 44:** A Father's Revelation Pt 2

"Mr. Reid, you really should have told your son about his sister sooner." Hotch said instead of answering William's question. Or even allowing himself to say what he hoped - that he was wrong about Alsie, if only for Spencer's sake.

"...what is it?" William eyed the man before him, trying to discern what it was that first Spencer, and now Hotch were reluctant to tell him. "Is Elsie...is my daughter..."

"Adrienne Leigh is all right." Hotch replied, heading into the hospital with the other man. Instead of heading straight to the brunette woman's room, he led the older Reid to an empty hall on the same floor. "I think it'd be best to wait for a DNA test before anyone outside of you, myself, and Spencer finds out about this." Hotch briefly considered mentioning Garcia too, but didn't. Unless they found proof, it was likely the tech analyst wouldn't believe let alone mention it to the rest of the team.

"Why? Is there a reason to doubt..."

"It's...complicated. Adrienne Leigh and Spencer, they..." Hotch faltered, hesitant to tell the other man the truth. "They met a while ago. About two months, I believe. Neither knew anything about, possibly, being related."

William Reid's eyes ran over Hotch's face and body language, gleaning quite a bit from each. He took a step back, his brain fathoming the reason behind why the agent's explanation sounded like an excuse. His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly in shock. The explanation dawning on him through a fog.

"Are you...are you trying to say that...that Spencer and...Elsie...they were..."

"Dating. Yeah." A new voice chirped, before giving a slight giggle. Its owner approached the two men, running her tongue over her lips.

"Adrienne? You should be resting..." Hotch said, his surprise at seeing the brunette sauntering towards them made him forget that the elder Reid was there.

Hearing that name, William spun around, not at all sure what he would see. Or should expect. His eyes widened further once he saw Alsie, quickly noting how similar she was to Spencer. Though her short stature hindered his view of her, especially as she got closer, the fact that her hair was pulled back allowed him a clear view of her face.

"No." Alsie chirped, smiling in such a way at the two men that Hotch grew concerned. His eyes narrowed, noticing how prominent the brunette's face was displayed, despite the scar. Though he'd only met her the other day, he felt that that scar was something Alsie always hid. He started to repeat his question, when Alsie interrupted. "Ana. Alsie's taking a...respite."

The brunette licked her lip, actually 'tracing her lips with her tongue' was a more apt description. Her brown eyes flowed over the two men, observing them from top to bottom. She giggled.

Hotch froze, surprised. Though not from Alsie being Ana, since Spencer had mentioned that alter, but rather from how the alter acted. The younger agent hadn't mention how flirtatious Alsie's alter Ana was. It felt extremely unnerving, watching Ana eye them so licentiously. And with abandon.

"Ana..."

"What? What..." William muttered, completely discombobulated. He stared at her, recognizing her through the similarities with Spencer as well as his fatherly instincts. Yet he also noticed how wantonly she gazed at him as well as Hotch.

Ana giggled again and started to approach. Her lips set in a seductive smile and her eyes voracious.

"Mr. Reid, we should probably wait to finish our talk." Hotch said, stepping forward as though to stop Ana's approach towards the other man. His mind blaring at him that if Ana seemed shocking to him, then William must be beyond shock. This woman was the man's daughter!

"No...this...does she..." William shook his head, terrified for Alsie more than disturbed by her flirtatious behavior. He actually barely noted the latter. His thoughts instead immediately shifted to his wife and all her behavior, symptoms through the years. Only when he realized that the behavior he saw in Alsie was different than any Diana had ever showed, did he feel a modicum better. "Elsie...?"

"I said Ana." The brunette rolled her eyes, and gave a small pout, her gaze shifting to Hotch. She had stepped close enough to lean into the agent's chest, which she attempted to do. "...you know, you're quite..."

"No." Hotch shook his head and pushed the woman away firmly, though at the same time gently. His height allowed him to easily see over the brunette's head, and he motioned for a nurse to come over. "Could you make sure she gets back to her room?" He asked the nurse quietly, while William gaped behind him.

"I will." The nurse said, taking hold of Alsie-Ana's shoulders and guiding her away. "Come along, dear."

"Hotchner, what...what does she have?" William asked, bracing himself. He continued to stare after Alsie - or Ana, or whatever she called herself, resigning himself to hearing the answer.

"Adrienne has dissociative personality disorder." Hotch replied, drawing the other man's attention back to him. Even if only for a brief moment. Until this moment the agent had been ambivalent about whether to believe that Alsie had D.I.D, since they hadn't managed to get records confirming the diagnosis. Which was more due to the fact that 'Allison Schmidt' had a private psychiatrist who didn't keep any electronic records on her patients, than any active deception.

"You're sure?" William asked, simply for confirmation rather than because he doubted the other man. His first thought was relief, since one of the things he'd learned over the years of dealing with Diana's diagnosis, was that schizophrenia and D.I.D were seldom, if ever, co-morbid. So Alsie's having the latter meant she couldn't have the former.

"Mr. Reid, we should discuss this privately. About the DNA..."

"Come on. That is definitely my daughter. She resembles Spencer so much...Diana was right, if I'd seen them when she had, I'd have known..." William mumbled, reminded of how insistent his wife had been twenty-five years ago. He sighed, his eyes narrowing in confusion, and his gut clenching as he recalled what 'Ana' had said. "How...how could...they were dating? How did none of you notice, that she looks...how...?"

Hotch grimaced, the question extremely awkward. Now that he'd seen Alsie's face unhampered by her hair, he saw the resemblance even more. "No one aside from Spencer, and our tech analyst Garcia, had met Adrienne until yesterday. Furthermore, I doubt if even Spencer ever saw her face fully, since she compulsively hides the scarred side with her hair. Besides..." Hotch paused, glowering at the other man who seemed to be judging them. "You never told Spencer about his sister, so he had no reason to suspect anything of the resemblance even if he had noticed."

William was about to respond, likely to protest, but stopped. Instead he cursed, feeling sickened by guilt. He should've told Spencer sooner and he should never have given up searching for his daughter. He cursed again, at himself and the Crawfords.

"Mr. Re..." Hotch started to speak, his attention on the other man, and it wasn't until he felt someone touch his arm that he realized that Alsie - or rather Ana - was back.

"C'mon you reeeally wanna send me away?" Ana pouted, pressing herself against Hotch's arm and holding tightly to his wrist.

"A...Ana, let go." Hotch demanded, surprised by how strong of a grip the woman had. It was so different than what he'd expect from someone so demure, almost meek, as Alsie.

"Don't wanna." Ana purred, gazing up at Hotch, her lips twisted between a smirk and a pout. The agent did manage to free his arm from her grip after a few moments, aided by William Reid grabbing Ana.

"Elsie, stop." William grabbed her by the shoulders, perplexed by her actions. The flirtation and mannerisms Ana exhibited, and how she seemed oblivious to the uneasiness they caused, dumbfounded him. "Els..."

"'Ana'." Ana pouted, though rather more petulantly than flirtatious. Her burnt umber eyes gazed over William and she tilted her head, showing off the non-scarred side. His eyes widened, deeply disconcerted at the way 'Ana' looked at him. The exact same one she'd given Hotch. She licked her lip and giggled.

William gaped, speechless. He wondered suddenly if prying her off of the agent's arm was worth the revulsion twirling in his stomach and brain in response to 'Ana's' shifting her flirtation to him. He glanced towards Hotch, his eyes widening as he noticed the agent head down the hall a few steps.

It didn't take long to realize why. The nurse that had originally started to escort Alsie-Ana back to her room, was hunched over clutching her nose. Blood flowed copiously from the nurse's nose, staining her hand, while some orderlies hurried to help staunch it.

William stared at the scene, still holding onto Alsie-Ana's shoulders. His faced paled as he realized what had happened. "El...Ana, you attacked the nurse. Why...?"

Ana blinked and glanced back at the ruckus, emotionally oblivious to it. She shrugged and turned back to William, mumbling after her eyes met his. "She was dragging me away. I didn't wanna leave."

"Ana, you have to go back to your room." Hotch said, glancing at William Reid and then toward the group tending to the injured nurse. His mouth twitched as he noticed a few stockier hospital employees approach, their intent easily discernible, even if he hadn't noticed the syringe in one of their hands.

Obviously they thought 'Ana' needed to be sedated, something Hotch couldn't fault them for after her attack on the nurse.

"Ana, no." William shook his head and held firmly to her arms when 'Ana' moved as though to press herself against him. Between his revulsion, shock, and the surreality of the situation, he didn't know what else to do. This sort of situation, even without Ana's sickening flirtation, was one he'd never been able to deal with. At least not comfortably.

"C'mon, why..." Ana sulked, trying again to lean into the man holding her, only to be cut off by a pinch on her arm. One of nurses or orderlies, or whatever, had poked the syringe into her and injected a sedative. She mumbled a little before passing out.

William Reid swallowed, shaken as he felt the petite woman - his daughter - collapse in his arms. He refused to allow the nurses and orderlies to take her from him, his gut and heart wrenched with emotion. He knew she was only sedated, but an intense dread overtook him, gnawing at his insides.

"Please, give us a second."

He heard Hotch tell the nurse and orderlies who insisted on bringing Alsie back to her room immediately. William Reid tensed when he heard one of them mention something about the psych ward.

"...he's her father." Hotch told the medical personnel, silencing their protests over why he was stopping them from taking Alsie. "As her next of kin, he's in charge of any medical decisions while she's unconscious."

"Be that as it may, we can't leave a sedated patient in the corridors. She has to be brought back to her room in this wing at the very least." The head nurse of the wing said, clicking her tongue as though to say she thought it foolish to leave her in this hospital wing.

"...understood." Hotch replied, turning back to William, who cradled the petite woman close to him. "Mr. Reid..."

"All right. But I'm staying with her until she wakes up." William Reid stood up, holding Alsie up with little effort. He grimaced when the medical personnel insisted in carrying her instead for liability concerns. He conceded though, and followed behind as Alsie was brought to her room.

Hotch remained in the hall, and took out his cell once he saw the door to Alsie's room shut. He quickly dialed a number. "Hello? Garcia..."


	45. Unraveling The Truth Pt 1

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 45:** Unraveling the Truth 1

 _-"Hello? Garcia..."-_

"Yeah?" Garcia cleared her throat as she answered Hotch's call, trying to hide the fact that she was still upset. Actually she was distraught, and her eyes and cheeks were moist, her nose stuffed. All which was heard in her less than cheery voice.

 _-"...are you all right?" Hotch asked, immediately concerned.-_

"You were right." Garcia replied, sighing sadly and defeated. She swallowed, staring at her computer screen, her eyes red-rimmed and blurry. "Dr. Connell did take Alsie from the Reids and give her to the Crawfords."

 _-"...You found a money trail?" Hotch asked after a second, his initial purpose for calling the tech analyst set aside.-_

"No. The Crawfords didn't buy Alsie. Connell gave her to them." Garcia took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes with a tissue, her voice bitter. More so when she said the name Connell. She swallowed and took in a deep breath, continuing before Hotch could ask her to elaborate. "Before I looked into the financial trail, I took a closer look at the birth records of both mothers. The hospital scanned the originals in when they started digitalizing their records. Both showed clear evidence of being altered. Someone did try to fix that later on by uploading clean copies, but didn't do a good job of hiding the original scans."

 _-"Garcia?" Hotch prompted, concerned when the normally bubbly woman sniffled and cleared her throat again. He started to ask in what way were they altered, but the tech analyst answered before he finished.-_

"The birth weight on both records were altered, with the weight of the Crawfords' baby suddenly shrinking by 3.7 pounds while the Reids' daughter's increased by the same amount." Garcia took a breath, shaking her head. "One guess to whose handwriting matched those edits."

 _-"Tobias Connell's." Hotch sighed, feeling as bitter as the tech analyst. "...How did the Crawfords pay him?"-_

"They didn't. Connell didn't receive anything from the Crawfords. Nothing. Nada." Garcia reiterated, her answer confusing Hotch. "His colleague, and Mrs. Crawford's obstetrician, Vernon Wilheim, did avoid a major malpractice lawsuit though. Apparently Dr. Wilheim had a bad habit of coming into work drunk or high, which he apparently was both the day Leah Crawford came in to give birth." She shook her head, angry at the inept doctor, who thankfully had been fired not long after. "He botched it. He didn't even realize when it was clear the baby was breach or that Mrs. Crawford, who was only fifteen at the time, had too small of a cervix to safely deliver her baby."

Garcia paused, taking a deep breath to avoid cursing out the doctor who clearly should never have gotten a medical license. Or should've had it revoked long before.

"Before you ask, sir, none of this was kept in the medical files for the Crawfords, but an unnamed party did issue a complaint about the incident with human resources, which a copy was kept in the personnel files. Stopped Dr. Wilheim from being hired anywhere else."

 _-"..." Hotch mulled this over. "How did Connell get involved? If he wasn't the Crawfords' doctor and he didn't get money for the switch..."-_

"That's where it gets a bit murky. But I think I know why. Vincent Crawford worked as an intern at the same hospital Connell worked at in '79. Same one James was born at." Garcia grimaced, letting her words sink in. Not that Hotch needed the pause, quickly understanding what the woman was driving at. "Mr. Crawford was studying obstetrics, and Connell was the doctor he was interning under."

 _-"Vincent Crawford knew what Tobias Connell had done, and he used the knowledge to blackmail Connell years later when his wife lost their baby." Hotch sighed, shaking his head as he thought. His eyes narrowed and then widened, an idea occurring to him. That had to be why Somerfield had gone to Nevada! He'd been trying to find the Crawfords and the child they'd taken, to use as leverage. The Reids' daughter... Hotch glowered.-_

"Sir..."

 _-"Garcia, give this information to Rossi and the others right away. They need to know. Somerfield's going to try to make a deal, by giving up the names of those victims we haven't found. Let's make sure he has one less name to use as leverage." Hotch ordered, to which the tech analyst agreed, though not before a short lived protest.-_

"All right." Garcia mumbled to herself after the call ended, briefly wondering how she would tell the others. How they would react. Her stomach sank as she thought about Spencer and what this information meant for him, and for Alsie. It took a few moments before she got herself up and exiting the room.

0

Spencer crossed his arms, staring across the park. His red-rimmed, brown eyes studied the foliage and the colorful blossoming shrubs. It was a small park, located adjacent to the hospital, and with enough paved paths to be safe for any patient there to stroll. He watched a few walk by, smiling at them politely as they passed.

"It'll get better." One of them said as he passed by in a wheelchair, apparently mistaking Spencer for a visitor from the hospital who had received terrible news. In a way, Spencer had and so he didn't correct the patient, just swallowed and nodded. Remaining silent until the stranger carried on down the path.

"Alsie..." Spencer trembled, staring down into a small fountain located not far from the sidewalk. He stared at his reflection and inhaled forlornly, trying to keep his sadness inside. The corner of his lip twitched as he suddenly thought of the Greek myth about Narcissus, his brow furrowing.

Narcissus had become enraptured by his reflection, thinking it was a nymph. And, in a strange, distorted way, so had Spencer. He had wanted so much to find someone who understood him and who he could relate to his whole life, and after losing Maeve he'd thought he'd never find anyone like that again. Ever.

So when he met Alsie and it became clearer and clearer how much they were alike, he couldn't help thinking that maybe he'd have another chance. A chance to once again have someone who understood him, who simply got him, and who he didn't need to constantly try to figure out or interpret. It had blinded him to the clues his subconscious had sent him, the hope that Alsie and he...

He closed his eyes, squeezing out a few lingering tears, before turning away from the fountain. He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, reminding himself that he'd stormed away from Hotch and his father. Without explaining why to either, though he honestly didn't care what his father thought.

The bastard hadn't had the decency to warn him he had a sister, not even as an adult. Though given his - their - father had thought Alsie - Elsie - was dead, it wasn't an unreasonable thing to hide the fact. But the older man should've came forward sooner with the truth, the very moment William started to doubt Al-Elsie was dead, he should've called.

Spencer had a hard time believing that William may have just started to doubt Al...his sister's death. Not when the folder containing Elsie's files or whatnot was so much fuller than he remembered it. It was evident that his - their - father had added files about Al-Elsie in them through the years. If he'd believed her to be dead the whole time, why had he added more papers? There should've been nothing to add!

Spencer cleared his throat again when his phone beeped, indicating a text message. Taking in a breath and grimacing, he took it out, wondering whether it'd be his father or Hotch.

His eyebrows narrowed when he saw it wasn't from either of them, but rather from Cam Fitzgerald. His surprise at receiving a text from SSA Fitzgerald, distracted him from the situation with Alsie and their connection.

 _-Hi. Can we speak? There's something I could use your help with. A case that just came to my team. Call whenever it's convenient.-_

Spencer read the text message twice, confused. If Fitzgerald wanted help on a case, then he'd expect her to call Rossi or Hotch. Not text him. He scowled, though more from confusion than frustration.

Shrugging, he dialed her number, secretly thankful for the respite, no matter how brief or unexpected.

0

"Garcia, what?" Morgan repeated, his eyes wide in disbelief. Same as JJ, Lewis, and Rossi's. Though Rossi had a slightly less surprised expression and more of a furious one.

"Alsie was one of the children Connell switched." Garcia reiterated, taking in a deep breath to remain calm. "She...the Crawfords weren't her birth family, but rather the family Connell gave her to after tak...taking her from her real parents, Diana and William Reid..."

"No. You can't mean..." JJ shook her head, horrified and unbelieving. "Alsie and Spence...?"

"Baby girl, they can't be...it can't..." Morgan shook his head too, though he knew by the way Garcia's eyes were reddened and cheeks wet that the tech analyst wasn't lying or playing a practical joke.

"Alsie is Reid's twin sister. There's evidence that Connell switched her with the Crawfords' baby." Garcia replied sadly, trying not to look as glum as she felt. "I didn't catch it sooner because the Crawfords waited a whole week before Connell gave them another baby. Alsie. And..." Her voice broke for a moment and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. "And Vincent Crawford didn't pay Connell for a baby, he blackmailed the doctor. So there wasn't a money trail to find."

"But, I...what about Reid? Does he know? And wouldn't his parents have said something...?" Lewis asked, her newness to the BAU family the only reason she wasn't as affected by the information as Morgan or JJ.

"I...I don't think his parents ever told him. I mean, he would've mentioned something to us about having a sister. If he knew."

"..." Rossi took in an angry breath, glowering. The sound drew the other BAU agents' attention to him.

"Rossi? What...?"

"This gives Somerfield and Connell even more of a motive to have taken Jemma." Was all he said before storming back toward the room where Somerfield was with his lawyer.

Once inside he scowled at Somerfield, fury beyond anything he felt pushing through every vein.

"Where's Jemma?" Rossi demanded, surprising both Somerfield and Sands.

"Who...? Agent, I don't know..."

"James and Alsie's daughter. Where is she?" Rossi reiterated, after realizing that the man likely wouldn't know the name Jemma's parents had picked out for her.

Somerfield shook his head, shocked enough by the agent's anger to drop his smugness. "Kenneth Connell didn't take James' child. He never got a chance, there was some accident..."

"Don't give me that. You and Connell had plenty of reason to be interested in Jemma. Enough that you'd risk anything to take her, even the life of her mother." Rossi growled, his dark eyes grown darker from anger. He nearly snarled when Somerfield once again denied the accusation. "Don't lie. You knew who her parents were, and you couldn't pass it up. To make Jemma one of your subjects...just like you did her parents."

"You've lost me." Somerfield started to say, his expression genuinely perplexed. "I...James was a...patient...of mine, but Alsie? Allison Schmidt? She wasn't...I have no connection to her...I..."

"Hm? No connection? Really? Maybe if I use the name given to her by the family, who Connell gave her to, you'll remember." Rossi growled, loathing on his face as he glared at the older man. "Adrienne Leigh Crawford."

Somerfield, in midst of protesting, froze. His mouth agape, his cheeks paling a shade and eyes widening. His shock authentic, enough that Rossi waited for his verbal response. "That...the woman James took to...Alsie...she's the one...? She's the Reids' daughter? She..."

Rossi watched the man blink, gaping at the agent then at the table, though not really seeing either. "...I'll ask one more time, where's Jemma? You and Connell are the only ones with motive to take her. A very strong motive, actually."

"No. No. We...I didn't know. I had no clue at all that Alsie was the child the Crawfords..." Somerfield puckered his lips, and gave an exasperated sound. He shook his head, then sighed. "Had I known who she was, I'd never have bothered going to Nevada. I would've came in here weeks ago."

"Really? And why should I believe that? Just because you say it doesn't mean it's true." Rossi said, eyes narrowed.

"Morland. Stop." Lucille Sands piped up, silencing the old man from saying anything more. "Don't say anything more."

Somerfield however glared back at the agent, not at all paying attention to his lawyer. "If Connell did take James' child, he didn't tell me. I assure you, if I did have, what was the name? Jemma. If I had her, do you really think I'd have lost control of James? Hm? Would he have given you my name, if I had his daughter?"

"MORLAND!" Lucille Sands hissed, her teal eyes nearly slits. She quickly turned to Rossi, to insist she be given more time with her client. A client that she suddenly started to regret accepting. "This interview is over now, SSA Rossi. So either charge my client or..."

Sands had barely said the first part of her ultimatum when the interview door opened, and in stepped JJ and Morgan.

"You bet your ass we're charging him." Morgan said, glowering at the two. "For illegal human experimentation and accessory to child trafficking, for starters."


	46. Unraveling the Truth Pt 2

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 46:** Unraveling the Truth 2

Rossi watched, livid, his gut and mind both a tumult, as his teammates did as they said. Officially charging the doctor. Somerfield's last sentence echoed in his thoughts, driving a chisel through the certainty he had had of Connell or Somerfield taking Jemma.

 _-"Would he have given you my name, if I had his daughter?"-_

Rossi didn't know whether he believed what Somerfield implied - that James cared about Jemma enough to be manipulated if the doctor had had her. He didn't know if he should risk hoping that his son did care about the girl. It would just risk devastating him anew if he hoped but was proven wrong.

"-ossi? Rossi?" Lewis asked while Morgan left to bring Somerfield to another room to be held until the man was arraigned or whatnot. It was clear, going by Sands' glower, that the lawyer wasn't going to allow any opportunity for them to interview her client again.

"...I shouldn't have...he's not going to give us any names now. That lawyer won't let him answer any more questions. I..." Rossi mumbled, shaking his head as he realized what his anger had cost them.

"We may not need him to. Now that we know Connell's time-frame wasn't limited to only hours between births, Garcia says she's going to run a new search and increase the time-frame parameters. It's possible we'll find the remaining si...five, children." JJ spoke, swallowing as she corrected herself. "We should call Reid...tell him what we discovered...about Alsie. Someone should tell Alsie too..."

0

 _2012:_

 _Vrrrr...screeech!_

 _The sound of an engine and screeching tires blended together, almost indistinguishable. There was also a voice, one that sounded familiar and at the same time filled her with dread._

 _She gradually became aware of pain, her whole body enveloped by what felt like knives slicing into her flesh. It all burned, and the voice again spoke, words that were indecipherable. Her eyes fluttered open, gazing up at a figure._

 _"Hel...wha..." She mumbled, trying to make sense of what had happened and who the man was. Her vision was too blurred to truly recognize him._

 _"Shhh. It's all right, love." The strange yet familiar man hushed her, his large hand caressed her abdomen. She mumbled something, frightened as the touch sent a chill through her._

 _"My...Jem..m...is she..."_

 _"Shhh, love. Don't worry. Don't." The man hushed her again, further saying something about he wouldn't hurt her if she was good. Or that may have been an echo of a memory._

 _She honestly didn't know. It all just simply meld together, until her swirl of senses faded into an indistinguished nothingness._

x

"...Elsie?" William Reid whispered as he saw the brunette's eyes moving rapidly beneath her eyelids. He stroked her hair, concerned for her as she kept struggling in her sleep, as though trying to escape something horrifying. She seemed so small, measuring just a few inches under five feet, and young. She looked much younger than thirty-three. William wondered if this was the same way she'd looked as a teenager, so delicate and tiny.

Tears filled his eyes as he gazed over the scarred side of her face. It was an old one, though how old, he didn't know. Though he was sure it was from after Spencer and Alsie had met at the park, Spencer or Diana would've said something about it if she'd had it back then. It was so long ago, but he did recall some of what his son had said about the girl.

He sighed and held onto his daughter's hand, grimacing at the restraints wrapped around her wrists. Though the hospital staff relented on insisting she be transferred to the psych ward - William bristled each time the staff mentioned it - the head nurse insisted on restraining Alsie.

"Mr. Reid?" Hotch muttered as he entered the hospital room, his eyes taking in the sight of the other man holding the petite woman's hand. It seemed to have calmed down the unconscious brunette. "Adrienne's - Alsie's - psychiatrist is on her way in and should get here in ten to fifteen minutes."

"A psychiatrist?" William tensed, the word cutting into him. Not because he had anything against the mental health professions nor their clients, he just...he couldn't...fathom his child being ill. Not like this. Even though Alsie didn't have schizophrenia, but rather D.I.D, he couldn't...he felt lost and terrified.

"Yes. A private one that she had since she was eighteen. Dr. Jolene Freeman. She diagnosed Adr...Alsie." Hotch paused, hesitating a second as he mulled over everything. Especially over what he suspected about what caused 'Ana' to be created. Each case of dissociative personality disorder was different, but alters were generally created to deal with things the core couldn't, and the personality of the alter would be adapted to endure specific types of traumatic situations.

Knowing about the physical abuse, Hotch had expected a violent alter, one that would protect Alsie from people like Shelly or perhaps even James. One that would make sure those who attacked Alsie wouldn't succeed in harming her. He hadn't expected a highly sexual alter. That suggested a different type of abuse occurred.

"Agent Hotchner, I...I've come across cases dealing with dissociative identity sufferers...I know that, it stems from trauma endured in childhood..." William took in a deep breath, struggling to keep composed, something that holding Alsie's hand helped him with. "I...the trauma Elsie endured...it..."

"None of the team was able to question Alsie about it yet." Hotch answered diplomatically, not wanting to give the other man any more terrible news. Not until he questioned Alsie or got proof by other means. If Alsie had endured sexual abuse on top of physical abuse, he wanted to be sure before saying anything. "Mr. Reid, you shouldn't focus on that right now. Not...not when there's something more important to discuss." Hotch said, suddenly realizing a certain fact that had slipped his mind in all the upheaval.

William Reid scowled at the other man, his brow furrowed, as though to ask what could be more important than his daughter he'd believed dead for thirty-three years.

"Alsie...Alsie has a daughter, Jemma, who..."

"What?" William's eyes widened and he gazed back at Alsie, flitting to her stomach then her face. "She...I...I have a grandchild? Where...?" He said the last word after turning back to Hotch, anxious to know where the girl was.

"I...we're looking for her. Jemma, was kidnapped three years ago...the team..."

"The hell!? Three years? That..." William seethed, understanding from his work at a law firm that dealt with various cases that the odds of finding a child alive after such a long time weren't great. That they were utterly dismal. He let go of Alsie's hand to face the agent, furious. "Why did you wait...why didn't your team..."

"Mr. Reid, I assure you that we won't stop looking until we find Jemma..."

William grimaced, not believing the agent's iteration. The words just seemed like the kind muttered in television shows or movies, not those spoken in real life and actually meant.

"Hotch." Rossi interrupted, opening the hospital room door. He quickly noted the elder Reid by Alsie's bedside, his eyes widening considerably. It took only seconds to realize at least some of what had happened, that William Reid must have been told about Alsie. Though why the elder Reid was already in D.C would need clarification.

"Dave." Hotch turned to the older agent, relieved at the timing of his arrival. "You...it's best if you talk with him. I just told him about Jemma..."

Rossi was already nodding and approaching the bed before Hotch finished. The relief his colleague and friend had shown at his arrival told him all he needed. Hotch mentioned something about checking if Alsie's psychiatrist had arrived yet, and left the room.

"Mr. Reid...William, we should talk..." Rossi said, thinking about just how much he and the other man suddenly had in common. It was funny how the world or maybe fate suddenly connected them. Years ago he had helped William's son investigate the man for murder, and though they'd cleared the elder Reid of the crime, it felt odd to meet again under such circumstances.

William Reid stared at Rossi, eyeing him carefully. He didn't hold grudges, but he couldn't help remembering when Spencer had brought along this agent and another, to investigate him for murder. Because of how protective and close the BAU was to Spencer, he'd let the false accusation go since they had simply wanted to help his son. He understood that. It didn't stop him however from being a tad wary.

"Trust me. I know what you're going through." Rossi continued, while William Reid scoffed, shaking his head. "I...Jemma's my granddaughter as well..."

William, having been about to deny whatever attempt at empathy the other man was going to make, felt struck dumb by the revelation. His widened eyes studied the other man, confused.

"My son's Jemma's father." Rossi explained, his tone sad.

"Your son...? You mean from that article?" William asked, recalling the article he'd read after reading about Somerfield and the child-switching Connell did. It had been marked as a related article when he'd looked the first up online on the plane ride. "The one who attacked those women in New York State? The rapist..."

Rossi's next words caught in his throat, as the man he'd hoped to empathize with scowled. William glanced at Alsie then turned back to Rossi, glowering.

"Did your son...?" William growled, his eyes narrowing on the agent.

"Ah...I don't think so." Rossi replied, refraining from denying the possibility outright though he was ninety percent sure that James hadn't raped Alsie. "Alsie spoke to me, and Spencer, about James. She hadn't known about what he was capable of until she read about the case you mentioned, and she didn't seem afraid of him either."

William mulled over the agent's response, appreciating how the other man didn't automatically defend his son and deny the possibility of rape. He saw too, how saddened and remorseful Rossi was for his son, James, despite none of it being his fault. The article had mentioned that James Rossi had been one of Connell's kidnapping victims...

"You're son was taken just like Elsie?" William swallowed and chewed on his lip, sighing. He noticed Rossi's nod, slight and forlorn. "And Jemma is..."

"Yeah. I understand exactly what you're going through. Believe me. And also, trust me, I will not give up searching for Jemma. Nor will my team, that includes Spencer, who I'm sure will be just as motivated as you or I." Rossi refrained from adding a comment about Spencer's feelings for Alsie, reminding himself in time of the bitter truth.

"...Rossi, do you...um..." William grimaced, biting his lip for a moment. What he needed to ask very discomfiting. "How...Elsie and Spencer, they...how serious is it...?"

"...Emotionally?" Rossi asked, not wanting to speculate on any other meaning of the question. "It's...I'm sure it will take them both time to...get through things...to deal with the truth..."

William almost seemed ready to ask about the other possible meaning to his question, but shook his head. It was something he definitely did not want to know or think about.

Neither of the two men noticed how Alsie tensed, having woken up a few minutes ago but kept her eyes closed. Long enough that she overheard the question about Spencer, as well as understanding from their tones, who the unknown voice belonged to. When she heard Rossi refer to the other man as William Reid, she felt her gut sink.

 _'It is true then. What I hoped as a child...it wasn't just a fantasy...'_ Alsie felt a tear fall from the corner of her eye, the one that was pressed against her pillow, obscured from view. ' _Why now, though? Why now and not when I was a child? I wanted so badly to not be the Crawfords' daughter...'_

"Elsie?" William Reid turned back to the brunette, the sound of her quiet sob drawing his and the elder agent's attention. He instinctively pushed her hair from her face, so he could see her unhindered. To know what she was feeling and reassure her.

He didn't expect her to glare at him, her eyes filled with loathing and hatred. It surprised him more since he could've swore he'd seen sadness in her eyes a split second before.

"Why didn't you find her?! Why didn't you look for Alsie!" The brunette seethed, her burnt umber eyes cold while her words were biting. Her accusations cut through William without reprieve. "She wanted to be saved. To be taken from those people. You never found her!"

"Alsie, what..." Rossi approached, shocked by the outburst. It took him a few moments to realize what the brunette was saying. To realize the pronouns used. 'She' and 'her' rather than 'I' or 'my'.

"El..." William started to say, just managing to shake off the accusation.

"Shut up. Don't say her name. You don't deserve to." The brunette hissed, her chest heaving from rage. "You never protected her. I did."

"Wh..."

Rossi touched the other man's shoulder, gesturing him to stop talking. Next he turned back to the small woman. "What's your name?"

"...Emmie."


	47. Unraveling the Truth Pt 3

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 47:** Unraveling the Truth 3

 _-"What's this case you need help with?" Spencer asked after greeting Fitzgerald, his phone to his ear. His surroundings calm enough that he could listen to the other agent without being reminded of the current situation, despite being only feet away from the hospital.-_

Camille Fitzgerald lingered over her answer, a bit surprised that the other agent's keenness to help her. Not that they didn't get along - when she'd helped out the BAU a few times over the years, she'd gotten along decently with each of the agents she'd met. Her surprise stemmed from Spencer not commenting on her calling him, rather than Rossi or Hotch.

She ran her fingers through her rich, auburn hair, her heterochromatic eyes reading over the files in front of her.

 _-"Fitzgerald?"-_

"My team's just been handed a case. A young woman was murdered and dumped in an alley a few weeks ago. No witnesses. No identification found with the body." Fitzgerald said, her words summarizing the easier points of the case. She shuddered, glancing at the medical report on the victim as well as part of one of the crime scene photos. "There's evidence that the victim was tortured, extensively, for at least a few weeks before death. And repeatedly sexually assaulted."

 _-"...You think it could be a serial?" Spencer mumbled, listening to the younger agent while standing in the park. Not far from the fountain. His brow furrowed when Fitzgerald paused before answering in the affirmative.-_

"We know it's a serial. The M.O matches that of a handful of other murder victims in the area. Most which were from twenty or so years ago." She replied, flipping open one of the other case files. Her lips pressed together sadly as she focused on the handwriting. "...it was a case my old team worked on before I joined the Bureau."

 _-"I...I'm sorry." Spencer replied automatically, recalling about the circumstances that had led to Cam Fitzgerald working with the BAU years ago. Her entire team had been killed just little over a year prior to her joining the BAU temporarily. A bad winter flu had whittled the team down to just three, and Fitzgerald was called in to help out until they were better. "Did...did you want the BAU's help? What about your current team? Aren't they..."-_

"Agent Aderhold is currently thinking about calling Hotchner and officially requesting assistance. But..." Cam Fitzgerald chewed on her inner cheek, nervous and concerned. "With everything that's happened, with what Rossi's going through...about James...I..." She paused, thinking about the senior agent. Rossi had rescued her from a terrible situation when she was a child, and she viewed him as family. More than she did the rest of the BAU.

 _-"..." Spencer drew in a sharp breath, the name James making him think about Alsie. He tried to hide it, but Fitzgerald didn't miss the reaction. She picked up on the shift in his emotion quickly, though she deduced it differently.-_

"What is it? Is Rossi okay? What...?" Fitzgerald asked, her body tensing as she immediately assumed Spencer's reaction had to do with the senior agent.

 _-"He's fine. Considering the circumstances." Spencer answered, not wishing to cause the younger agent any undue stress. "Is...is the reason you called me and not Rossi because you don't want to stress him?"-_

"Yes...and no." Fitzgerald replied, taking out another paper from the most recent case file. "I...there's something...odd...about this newest victim. It..." She hesitated, not knowing how to explain or if she should.

 _-Spencer tensed, immediately thinking about James' crimes. "Please don't tell me that the victim was enucleated..."-_

"Don't worry. She wasn't...and like I said the M.O matches cases from twenty-four, twenty-five years ago. He...James...would've been a preteen then if my math's correct." Fitzgerald's voice caught as she said the name, not sure if she could've if she'd been talking to Rossi instead. "No. It's...it's just...some hair not matching the victim's was found on the sheet the unsub wrapped the body in. Some skin cells too."

 _-"..." Spencer swallowed, waiting for the other agent to continue. He didn't want to jump to any conclusions based on how Fitzgerald was explaining things.-_

"The lab tested it for DNA, to see if it could be the unsub's. It isn't." Fitzgerald paused, clicking her tongue as she lingered over the report and how to interpret it. She could sense that Spencer was wondering how she could know it wasn't the unsub's. "The hair and skin cells were from a female, and the unsub is definitely male." She closed the file, finding that looking through it kept making her hesitate or veer off her purpose. "We ran the DNA through the database, local and nationwide, just in case it matched another victim. It...didn't match a victim. But...there was a strong familial match with another's in the system. One added not that long ago."

 _-"...familial match...?" Spencer tensed, his eyes widening and he prompted Fitzgerald to continue. "Fitzgerald? Whose DNA did it match...? Was it James'?"-_

"Yeah..." Fitzgerald nodded, though she continued to bite her lip. Spencer caught her continued hesitance quickly, his attention more keen on the other agent than it'd ever been on anything. "It...I didn't believe it at first, so I ran it again, against all databases, even the FBI personnel samples...it was of course a familial match to Rossi's, but there was another closer familial match."

 _-"Tell me who else had a familial match to it, Fitzgerald." Spencer said, his heart thumping. His brain had already deduced the answer, but it didn't and wouldn't seem real until Fitzgerald said it.-_

"...do you have any siblings? A sister...?" Fitzgerald asked instead, causing Spencer's breath to catch. Though it wasn't a direct answer to his demand, what she asked did confirm his suspicion.

 _-"...Jemma..." Spencer felt suddenly weak from relief - hope? - at the news. He sat down at a nearby bench, overwhelmed to the point of not answering Fitzgerald for a few moments while she tried asking who Jemma was. "Jem...Jemma is James' daughter. I..." He faltered, not wishing to delve into the situation with Alsie. Or how he'd been lied to his whole life. "Look, tell agent Aderhold the BAU will help on the case. She can call Hotch to confirm, but I guarantee he'll agree to help once he knows about the DNA."-_

"All right." Fitzgerald said, surprised enough that she didn't noticed until after hanging up, that Spencer hadn't answered her question about him having a sister.

0

"Damn." William Reid coughed, his hand held against his mouth and nose, both bloody.

"Careful. Here." Rossi led the other man to a chair in the hall, while flagging down a nearby nurse. Neither man had been prepared for the level of hatred in 'Emmie', who had struggled violently against the restraints around her wrists.

Luckily the restraints had held, but that didn't prevent her from headbutting William when the man got too close. The action had surprised both of them, and Rossi quickly helped lead William Reid out of the room. Still bleeding.

"What happened? Rossi...? Mr. Reid?" Hotch asked, approaching the two from down the hall, an unknown woman following him.

"Alsie switched to an alter...Emmie, she called herself." Rossi replied, standing up after a few nurses came to staunch the other man's injuries. He heard them mention about a busted lip and possible broken nose, which needed to be confirmed with an x-ray. Upon which they soon insisted on bringing William Reid to a room to be checked on.

"Wasn't she restrained?" Hotch asked, watching as the nurses led a reluctant William to an examination room.

"What!" The woman who had followed Hotch grew alarmed, her eyes widening behind her glasses. "You had her restrained?! That..." She cursed and quickly entered the hospital room after catching a glimpse of Alsie.

"Dr. Freeman? Wait..." Hotch attempted to stop the woman, but was ignored. Except for a brief moment when Jolene Freeman instructed him and Rossi not to enter the room. Or let any man or imposing woman to either.

She then shut the door.

"Aaron, that is...?"

"Dr. Freeman, Alsie's psychiatrist." Hotch replied, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening inside the room. Just in case Alsie turned violent again. He settled for just standing outside the door, close enough to overhear if any trouble occurred.

"All right..." Rossi nodded, concerned just the same as Hotch about the woman being in the room alone with Alsie - or rather 'Emmie'. The psychiatrist was pretty petite herself, though not as short as the troubled brunette. "Did you explain things? Or ask about Alli...Alsie's files?"

Hotch shook his head. "Dr. Freeman refused to say anything about Alsie to protect patient confidentiality. She said she'll ask Alsie if she'll be willing to sign a release for the files. What about you? Did you explain to William Reid about Jemma and that we're going to search for her?"

"Yeah." Rossi mumbled, not too keen on explaining some of the points he and the elder Reid had discussed. Things they didn't exactly have answers to or that either even wanted to know the answers to. "A...Aaron, how's Spencer taking this? I assume that with his father here, that he was told...? Or..." Rossi paused, thinking. "How did William Reid get here so quickly...? We only just found out about Alsie being..." Rossi faltered, still a bit reluctant to accept the fact of Alsie's and Spencer's familial connection.

Hotch started to explain the conversation he'd had with the elder Reid before Rossi showed up, and handed the senior agent the folder he'd been given. The one that held all of the information William Reid had on his daughter.

"He tried to locate her twice before, but the Crawfords had vanished." Hotch started to explain while Rossi opened the folder, reading through the detective agency files. He faltered though once he noticed the look that appeared on Rossi's face. It was one of pain mixed with regret.

"...He searched for her." Rossi inhaled, his eyes watering a bit as he felt his stomach clench.

"Dave, it wasn't your fault. You can't blame yourself for James. You had no reason to doubt what Dr. Richards told you and Carolyn."

"William Reid didn't have any reason to doubt his wife's doctor either, yet he looked for his daughter..." Rossi retorted.

"That's not exactly true." Spencer said from behind the senior agent, having been on his way to tell Hotch about what Fitzgerald had told him. The two older men quickly turned their attentions to the younger agent. "My mom...she recognized Alsie, that day we met as children. She picked me up from the park and saw Alsie, and recognized her." Spencer swallowed, mulling over what his father had told him and what he remembered now his memory of the time-frame wasn't blocked. "My dad simply acted on what she told him."

"Reid...?"

"I'm sure if you or your first wife saw James when he was a child, you'd have recognized him." Spencer continued, attempting to make the other man feel better. "You also wouldn't have stopped until you found out the truth."

The two older agents shared a glance that Spencer missed, having shifted his attention to Alsie's hospital room door. The glance clearly indicating that neither had failed to notice the anger the younger man had for his father. Anger strong enough that Spencer dismissed William's search for Alsie as meaning anything.

"Where is my dad, anyway?" Spencer asked after trying to peek through Alsie's hospital room door. His first thought having been that William was with Alsie, but that vanished when he realized it was another woman in the room with her, not a man.

"...getting his nose patched up." Rossi replied.

"What? Why? What happened?" Spencer asked, his eyes flitting from Rossi to Hotch.

"...Alsie attacked him."

Spencer flinched, shocked, the answer not one he'd expected. His expression as he glanced back towards Alsie's room clarifying that his reaction had more to do with her involvement. He seemed about to say something, but stopped himself. Instead he grimaced and shook his head.

"Re..."

"Fitzgerald called me." Spencer said, shifting the conversation away from Alsie or William. "Her team just got a case that may be connected to Jemma."

"What?"


	48. Unraveling the Truth Pt 4

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 48:** Unraveling the Truth 4

"Emmie. It's all right." Jolene Freeman spoke softly and reached tentatively to the brunette's restraints. A few strands of her blue-black hair, twisted loosely into a bun on top, fell against her forehead. Her warm, rich amber eyes peered at Alsie-Emmie from behind her glasses. "I'm just going to undo these, okay?"

"..." Emmie stared at her, tense and struggling against the restraints. Her eyes were angry, but the gleam in them was more defensive than offensive. And the way her gaze shifted around the room, focused especially the door, before settling back on Jolene revealed the extent of her defensiveness.

Jolene held her tongue, refraining from commenting or making any discouraging sounds while she undid the restraints around her patient's wrists. She hadn't seen Alsie, or rather Emmie, this on edge in years. Not since the first time she met the alter, when the young woman was nineteen.

Once freed of the restraints, Emmie swiftly stood up from the bed and massaged her wrists. It felt liberating and safer to be away from the bed and its restraints, her heart rate finally slowing down to normal. She paced, eyeing the psychiatrist carefully and with dawning recognition.

"Jolly..." Emmie mumbled, using the nickname Jolene Freeman had given when they'd first met. It'd been a way of building trust, since the psychiatrist had admitted that she'd never liked the nickname growing up. So her giving it to Emmie, and allowing the alter to call her by it, had established a beginning level of trust between them.

"It's all right, Emmie. There's no danger in this room. You have my word that I'll make sure nothing happens to Alsie, all right? It's okay." Jolene sat down on the bed, about to pat the mattress to gesture the brunette to sit down, but hesitated. Her eyes quietly noted the restraints still attached to the bed. She made a face, privately cursing whoever had put the restraints there, before gesturing to a chair beside the bed. "Please, sit. It's all right. Emmie, it's best for Alsie, if you sit."

Emmie glowered at Jolene at the last comment, her body tense. She seemed about to refute the woman, a barrage of swears and verbal barbs ready to be spewed out.

"...I heard from the agent outside that Alsie fell again, is that right? If so, it is best to sit down while we talk. You don't want to put Alsie in danger."

"...Fine." Emmie frowned, but sat down. Her eyes gleamed with trepidation and anger each time she glanced at the bed. It was clear that the sight of it made her uncomfortable, like the bed and restraints were just waiting to bind her again.

"All right. Now, do you want to tell me what happened? What you needed to protect Alsie from?" Jolene asked, her voice taking on a natural soothing quality. Her lips holding a reassuring smile.

"...She can't handle it. None of it." Emmie mumbled, her eyes locking on the psychiatrist. "Everything's going away. Just like when James left or when Mary died. She can't handle it if everyone's going to leave again. I won't leave her though."

Emmie added the last sentence almost like an afterthought, her expression revealing just how serious she was. She would never leave Alsie, she would always protect her.

"I understand a lot has happened lately." Jolene stated, unsure if she should mention the news story about James. Emmie had never liked the man and had tolerated him only after Alsie started growing fond of him. The alter had actually admitted to Jolene a few years ago, after Alsie got pregnant the first time, that she had repeatedly attempted to make James leave.

It wasn't until after Alsie's second miscarriage, and James being just as upset by it as the brunette, that Emmie had stopped trying to force him to leave.

"...Jem's alive. Or may be. The doctors lied to Alsie. James lied too." Emmie growled, her voice drenched in venom. "Shelly lied the worst though. She called Jem devil's spawn right to Alsie's face. She got what she deserved, saying that."

"...what happened to Shelly?" Jolene focused on that detail, surprised at the level of enmity in Emmie's voice when she talked about the blonde. It baffled the psychiatrist that the relationship between Shelly and Alsie would change so drastically that Shelly would call the petite woman's baby devil spawn.

"She attacked Alsie. Tried to inject her with something. I stopped her. Alsie was still upset though..." Emmie replied, about to say more when a knock cut through the room. She immediately tensed and stood back up, ready to fight whoever the intruder was.

"Calm, Emmie, calm." Jolene said, standing up herself to answer the knock on the door. She opened the door a crack, just to see who had interrupted and request them to give her more time. Her eyes widened, then narrowed upon noticing Hotch and then two nurses standing behind him. "Yes, agent?"

Hotch quickly apologized before explaining that the hospital staff were adamant about transferring Alsie to the psych ward. They had tolerated keeping her in her room after the attack on the nurse, but after the assault on William, they wouldn't - couldn't - keep her in this part of the hospital.

"No." Jolene said, her tone firm. "She's not being transferred there. No."

"I understand, but..." Hotch glanced back at the nurses and orderlies, before returning to the other woman. "The medical staff here are insisting on it. She attacked two people while here so far...and there's also the matter with Shelly."

"Then have her released into my care. I'm her psychiatrist."

Hotch hesitated, unsure who to side with. The amount of violence done by Alsie's alters, not just the two in-hospital attacks, but also the hereto unexplained altercation with Shelly, made him uneasy. But the fact that Alsie was Spencer's sister and the mother of Rossi's grandchild, made him less keen to see her brought to the psych ward.

"Dr. Freeman, Adrienne - Alsie - fell without warning early this morning. Her medical doctor is still waiting the results of her tests to see what caused it. Do you really think it's in her best interest to leave the hospital?" Hotch asked, keeping his tone and head level. Things would be much simpler if Spencer had agreed to being Alsie's medical proxy while William was getting bandaged up. As her brother, he was the brunette's next of kin, after William, a role that the younger agent had refused to take on.

Not that Hotch, or any of the team could fault him for it. It was a horrible shock, to each of them, but especially to Spencer, finding out that Alsie was the youngest BAU member's sister.

It would be a while before Spencer would be able to accept that fact.

He hadn't even registered the fact that this truth made him Jemma's uncle! All throughout his explaining to them about what Cam Fitzgerald told him, Spencer kept referring to Jemma as Rossi's granddaughter only. Not once did he refer to the girl as Alsie's daughter or his niece. He'd even hesitated when referring to Jemma's father James, despite the fact that that was what made Rossi Jemma's grandfather.

"What's best for her is to not be restrained. Or drugged. She has serious issues with both." Jolene insisted, glancing back at Alsie-Emmie before elaborating on what she meant to the agent.

Hotch gaped slightly as Jolene explained briefly that Alsie had issues with narcotics, going back to her late teens and early twenties. His eyebrows rose as he wondered just how much Alsie had in common with Spencer. The two may be twins, but it was still bizarre. Only when Jolene hinted that Alsie's addiction was to morphine and oxycodone did it feel less so.

"...Dr. Freeman, Alsie..." Hotch started to replied, once his initial surprise faded.

"She can't be restrained." Jolene repeated, the way she said it and how she glared at the two medical staff behind Hotch revealing that this was the greater issue. "If you want her to return to Alsie, she can not be restrained. Trust me. If you do restrain her, especially to a bed, she will react violently and you'll never be able to question her."

Hotch stared at the psychiatrist, reading the earnest sincerity in her demeanor. He quietly mulled things over. They would need to question Alsie, about Shelly. And, if it turned out that the case Fitzgerald presented didn't lead them to Jemma, then they'd have to ask Alsie about the accident three years ago.

"...I'll see about having an agent assigned to watch Alsie, that way the hospital staff may agree to allow her to stay here in this ward."

"Thank you." Jolene replied, relieved that the agent was on her side - she wasn't part of this hospital or close friends with any of its staff, so she feared the possibility of the staff not following her orders for her patient. "It'd be best to have a woman agent, rather than a man."

"I'll see what I can do." Hotch said, turning towards the nurses that'd followed him and asking they go get the department head so they could discuss things. After they did so, albeit a bit reluctant, he turned back to Jolene Freeman. "Is it possible for Alsie to answer some questions?"

Jolene hesitated, glancing back at the petite woman. "She's still Emmie..."

"That's fine. There'll likely be some questions that only Alsie's alters can answer. So if possible I..." He cocked an eyebrow when Jolene shook her head slowly.

"No men. Not with Emmie. With Ana too, it's better to have a woman do any questioning."

"...I understand." Hotch replied and turned to go talk with the hospital staff about a compromise on moving Alsie.

0

"Oh, excuse me, love." Linnet smiled as he approached the produce section of the supermarket, passing unavoidably close to another shopper's cart. Close enough to bump into it, causing the woman who was pushing it to drop a package of fruit she was holding.

It opened and spilt over the market floor, spreading out a various array of berries and cut fruit.

"Oh! I'm sorry, that was clumsy of me, love." Linnet immediately apologized to the woman, a slender blonde who appeared annoyed by the accident. He noted the wedding and engagement rings on her finger before shifting to an oval locket around her neck. One that had various gemstones decorating the chain. "It's just...my little one's not feeling too well, so I'm trying to hurry up here so I can get back to her."

"...that's all right." The woman replied, her frustration lessened by mention of a sick child. She fingered her necklace, and returned Linnet's smile. "I have three children of my own. So I can relate. Is your daughter with her mother?"

Linnet shook his head, giving a saddened look. "No...her mother was in an accident three years ago. Since then it's just been me and mon cher." He pulled out a photo wallet and showed off a few, warming the woman's heart with the images of a small bundle of cuteness.

"She's adorable. How old is she?" The woman asked, her earlier annoyance forgotten. She barely noted as one of the store employees came over to clean up the spilled produce. Nor did she catch the gleam in Linnet eyes as she smiled at a photo of a small child holding onto a pink bunny.

"She turned three a couple weeks ago. It's really hard to be away from her, even for a moment. Her mother was pregnant with her at the time of the accident, so both of them almost..." Linnet trailed off and sighed, before taking back the photo wallet. His eyes, having glanced away, returned to the woman.

"Oh! That must've been horrible for you." The woman's eyes widened with concern, her motherly heart going out for the man and child. "...I raised my eldest on my own until he was seven, so I know what it's like to be an only parent. It's difficult, but rewarding."

"Yeah." Linnet agreed and turned to possibly return to shopping. He paused though, seeming to think about something, before turning back to the woman. "You wouldn't happen to know of any good babysitters, would you? The one currently watching Jem is going to be leaving soon, so I'm in need of a new one."

"Oh, I could watch her. I used to work at a daycare, and I just adore children. Especially when they're that young and cute."

"Really? You would?" Linnet grinned, his tone enthused. "That'll be great, love. Jem will definitely love you, I know it."

He and the woman continued to talk while shopping. The conversation eventually revealing that the woman had no car and so had been planning on taking a cab back from shopping. To which Linnet insisted he give her a ride back to her place after cashing out.

"I couldn't impose..."

"Nonsense, love. Besides, if you don't mind it, we could swing by my place either after or before yours so you can meet Jem. She'll love you, I know it."

"All right." The woman smiled, agreeing to Linnet's offer. The two continued to shop together while talking, even agreeing after a moment to share a cart so as not to block the aisles by having two side by side.


	49. Unraveling the Truth Pt 5

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 49:** Unraveling the Truth 5

D.C

William Reid sighed, sitting down beside Alsie's bed, the bandage around his nose reminding him of 'Emmie'. And what she'd shouted at him. He stared at his daughter's sleeping face, his mind racing through all the reasons that could've caused her D.I.D. Going by how her alters, Emmie and Ana, acted it had to have been horrendous. Violent. And possibly...

He shook his head, not wanting to think about what his daughter had gone through as a child. All because of a lie. A lie told by a horrible doctor thirty-three years ago, and perpetuated by a selfish family who'd vanished when he'd looked for them.

William clenched his fists, his jaw taut as he thought of the Crawfords. Nothing in the world could make him forgive them for what they did, taking his daughter - Spencer's twin. Though he had tried to comprehend their actions, he couldn't. Not even before he learned about how the Crawfords treated Alsie, from Garcia, who'd come to visit Alsie while the rest of the BAU were getting ready to head off on a case.

The record of neglect had been found by the detective he'd hired years ago, but the similar names of the children had confused the detective. And thus him as well. Adrienne and Adrian. William wondered if the Crawfords chose that name for their son in order to confuse anyone looking for Alsie. The two children's names were pronounced the same, so which child had been which was only determinable in writing.

"Hey." Garcia said, entering the room and handing William Reid a coffee. Though it felt strange, almost backstabbing, to be nice to Spencer's father considering how much the genius disliked the man, she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Or for Alsie.

"Thank you." William replied, taking the coffee from the tech analyst. He took a sip, still looking at Alsie. "...aren't you going to go help the BAU on this new case they left for?"

"Oh, well, most of my work is done electronically back at Quantico, so I don't usually travel with the team." Garcia replied, attempting to be cheerful. She bit her lip at the angry look on William's face and how he mumbled about how the team just left Alsie for some case. Hearing that, she felt a tad miffed at the man. "But it's about...wait, did nobody mention...?" Garcia gaped, realization dawning on her. "This case the team just left for, there's a possibility it might lead us to Alsie's daughter Jemma. And help bring her home."

William's eyes widened and he whipped his head to look at the unique, colorful woman. "What? You mean they can...Jemma might be found? Alive?"

Garcia hesitated a half-second, but then replied. "That's what we're all hoping. Trust me, Mr. Reid, the team wouldn't have just gone off on another case this soon, unless it was important. And finding Jemma is the most important thing right now." Garcia took a sip of the tea she'd gotten herself when she'd gotten William's coffee. She beamed a reassuring smile at the man. "Jemma's family. And each of us wants to find her and none if us will stop looking until we do."

"...Thank you." William Reid said again, his tone this time not just polite but truely grateful for Garcia's words.

"Mmm...nnn." Alsie mumbled and stretched out, still asleep. The questioning her psychiatrist had put her, or rather Emmie, through hours ago had exhausted the brunette. She'd fallen asleep quickly, long before William had gotten back from getting bandaged up. "Hnnmn. Hmm...Uhnn."

"Elsie..." William patted the brunette's hand and placed his coffee on the table beside the bed. As he watched her, he was tempted to stroke her forehead or at least push the hair from her eyes, but refrained from doing so. Dr. Freeman had warned him against it, after he explained to her what had happened immediately prior to Alsie switching to Emmie.

According to what the psychiatrist could tell him without breaking client confidentiality, Alsie balked at all unexpected touch anywhere, except on her hands. And it was likely that such would trigger one of her alters to take over.

William sighed, once again wondering about what Alsie had gone through. About what could've made her so resistant to contact - it was more extreme than Spencer's aversion to hugs or handshakes. He glowered as he thought, understanding even though no one would tell him so, that the abuse Alsie - his daughter - had endured must've been extreme. And more than physical.

"I...I think she's waking up." Garcia spoke softly, having noticed how Alsie's eyes started to flutter while she stretched her arms and legs.

"Ummm. Ehnn..." Alsie grumbled as though in response to Garcia's voice. Her eyes opening slightly, before closing again while she rubbed the sleep from them. "Wha...I smell coffee..." She mumbled and turned her head to her left, her eyes alighting on the coffee cup William had placed there. She sat up, grimacing as she reached for it, before stopping having just noticed William Reid. Her brow furrowed as she considered him, then the coffee. Then him again. "Ah...um? I..."

She made a face, no longer concerned about the coffee. Instead she stared at William, confused, her deep brown eyes searching his face. It lasted until Garcia made a noise, drawing Alsie's attention.

"Oh! Hi. What are you doing here?" Alsie mumbled, smiling slightly at the bubbly woman. Her smile faltered as her last talk with Spencer came back to her, and she chewed on her bottom lip. "...I...Um..."

Garcia watched as the brunette looked away, and pulled her legs up to her chest. The expression on the petite woman's face was a mix of guilt, worry and intense sadness. It made Garcia's heart clench in empathy.

"What is it, Alsie? It's all right." Garcia asked, approaching the bed. Her kind voice and presence simply seemed to confuse the brunette more.

"You don't...? But..." Alsie muttered, furrowing her brow in thought again. 'Spencer didn't tell them? That I suspected...?'

William Reid swallowed, briefly overcome emotionally. It hadn't occurred to him just how upsetting it would be to be looked at by Alsie and not be recognized. He should've been prepared for it, and he had been prepared at least a little earlier, before he met 'Ana' and 'Emmie'. Some part of him had refused to realize that despite her alters meeting him, Alsie herself hadn't and wouldn't have any recognition of him. Even more piercing was the way Alsie's eyes reminded him of Spencer's, thus making him feel like both his children hadn't recognized him.

"...I'm sorry." William mumbled, caught between wanting to embrace his daughter and wanting to leave to deal with the overwhelming guilt. What Emmie had said echoed in his thoughts: 'Why didn't you find her?! You never protected her!'

Alsie's eyes widened, recognizing William's voice from when she overheard Rossi and the other man talking. Though she hadn't seen him, having blacked out shortly before getting a chance to, she recognized the voice. Her heart pounded, her eyes seeking out his.

"You...you're Spencer's...my...um..." Alsie mumbled, her eyes hopeful but at the same moment she shrunk away, pulling herself into a tighter ball. Completely on reflex. She didn't realize she'd done so until reading the hurt in William's face at the flinch. "Sorry...I...I..."

"It...it's all right. Elsie. It's fine." William couldn't help but reply upon seeing how upset her own flinch made her. "I...I'm your father...I..."

It was barely noticeable, but Alsie cringed at the word 'father', and swallowed. Her cheeks a shade paler. The next moment she shook her head, as though trying to fling her flinching aside.

"..." William Reid froze, catching the cringe and gulp, recognizing the fear the brunette had tried to conceal. His fatherly instincts immediately flared up, putting two and two together. First 'Ana's' behavior, and now this reflexive cringe at the word: father...he didn't need to be a genius to see what this suggested. He immediately felt his anger at the Crawfords skyrocket.

"A...Alsie?" Garcia stuttered, though she'd missed the cringe, she had noticed how unsurprised the brunette was to William Reid's announcement that he was Alsie's father. No one on the team had had a chance to tell the petite woman about the twin thing, so she should've been surprised. It suddenly dawned on her why Spencer had refused to even visit the brunette before heading to the jet with the rest of the team. "Did you already know? About you and Reid being siblings? When you met...?"

William immediately gaped at Garcia, the question - sounding to him like an unfair accusation - irked him. "Of course she didn't..."

"I...I...as a child...I...hoped..." Alsie mumbled, her voice trembling. "As an...adult...I hoped...not...I..."

"Elsie? What?"

"Y...you let Reid...fall for you...despite suspecting...that you two were...?" Garcia covered her mouth, feeling appalled at the brunette. She shook her head, not at all understanding what or why Alsie thought it was reasonable to not warn Spencer. "I...I need to leave. I need...to get back to Quantico..."

Alsie didn't say anything while Garcia left, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. The moment the door shut behind the tech analyst, the tears the brunette had struggled to keep at bay started to fall. Drenching her cheeks.

She seemed completely oblivious to William Reid's continued presence until she felt him grab her hand. At the touch, she looked back at him, her lips quivering.

"I...I know...it wasn't...right. I...but is it so wrong...to want to be with...someone you trust? Who...you've always...trusted?" Alsie closed her eyes, not waiting for William's response. She knew he wouldn't understand, and would be just as appalled.

William Reid struggled with how to respond, what he should say. He didn't understand, same as Garcia, why Alsie hadn't mentioned her suspicions before. But he did recognize how much she was hurting. It was evident that she had fallen as deeply for Spencer as Spencer had for her.

He squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her that he at least wasn't angry at her. He may not have understood her reasons, but he couldn't blame her. She hadn't kidnapped herself as a baby. The Crawfords and Tobias Connell had. They were the ones at fault.

And if he was right on what he suspected Vincent Crawford had done to Alsie as a child, the brunette's skewed sense of morality could be placed solely on that bastard's shoulders.

"It's all right, Elsie. It's all right." William whispered, his heart breaking seeing his daughter so upset and feeling powerless to comfort her. All he could do was hold her hand, afraid of what she'd think if he hugged her. If it would trigger a memory of that bastard that had pretended to be her father.

Alsie sniffled, swallowing as she looked back at the man, Spencer's - her - father. Her real father. Since hearing how the man had left Spencer and Diana when the former was ten, Alsie had struggled to imagine what he would be like. All she had had to go on was the anger Spencer had for him.

"I looked for you." William blurted, prompted by what Emmie had said and by how distraught Alsie seemed. "When you and Spencer were children. The day after he and Diana saw you in that park, I tried to find the Crawfords. I found the house they had - where you lived - two days later but no one was there. You and the Crawfords were gone."

"That...that's because we - they moved." Alsie whispered after a moment, touching her facial scar as she recalled what had happened. "Mo...hm...she did this. She was angry, worse than I ever knew her to be. She was scared, too. Afraid she'd lose Dren...um, br...Adrian Vincent, her...their...son." Alsie took in a deep shuddery breath. "By the time I was fully conscious again...they were gone, and I...I was left at some distant relative or friend's of theirs house. I...it was better there. No one got angry at me, or hit me..."

"Els..." William squeezed Alsie's hand, not knowing what to say or if he should show the anger he felt for the Crawfords. If the family was just going to abandon her, why hadn't they done so at a hospital or given her back to her real family? Were they that cowardly?

"The old couple's grandson was just like Mr. Crawford though. Though..." Alsie swallowed, her brow furrowing. "He may have been worse...I don't...remember much, not after the old couple died. I...my blackouts started then...my next clearest memory is being taken in by Mary Schmidt. She was nice...she didn't hit me or force any...anything...I hated it when she died..."

"Elsie, it's..." William whispered, not knowing whether to stop his daughter or encourage her. It was clear she wanted to explain things, to explain what she'd gone through. He just didn't know if he could handle listening to what his daughter had gone through. He was thankful that Alsie hadn't thought it necessary to explain, in detail, what she'd experienced.

"I..." Alsie shook her head, not wanting to continue. Instead a question that burned at her curiosity slipped through her lips. "What was my birth name? What did you and m...mom...want to name me?"

"El...Elsie. Elsie Diana Reid. With Elsie spelled with an E not an A." William answered, momentarily surprised by the question.

"Really? That's...that's uncanny. Sp...Spencer gave me 'Alsie' as a nickname...I...how...did he...?" Alsie narrowed her eyes, confused. She squeezed William's hand back, trying to understand things.

William thought a moment, recalling the brief seconds when a five year old Spencer had opened the folder he'd kept of Alsie's medical and funeral records...he also recalled how upset Spencer had been upon seeing that folder again.

"I don't...I don't think he consciously knew...we...never told him he had a twin." William glanced away, once more regretting his decision to not mention Alsie to Spencer. The sharp and sudden breath Alsie took and how she tore her hand away from his, drew his attention back. His face lit with surprise. "Elsie...?"

"You...you didn't...? You never...mentioned me?" Alsie sputtered, her eyes widening. "You...like I never...never exist...existed? You...?" She swallowed, scowling at William with her tear-drenched face. "You...and m...mom...you both...?"

Recognizing the anguish - the betrayal in his daughter's eyes, William attempted to explain and even tried grabbing Alsie's hand again, to get her to calm down. The petite woman viciously slapped his hand away, her chest heaving with anger.

"Get the hell out!" Alsie screamed at him, going as far as pressing the call button to bring in a nurse. The moment the nearest nurse came in, she screamed again. "Get him out! I don't...I don't want him here! Get him out!"

"Els...I..." William stood up, flustered by the strength of Alsie's anger.

"I'm sorry sir, but you need to leave." The nurse, who had responded to Alsie's call, told the older man as she escorted him out into the corridor. She shook her head firmly when he tried to object. "Both her physician's and psychiatrist's orders are to keep her calm and not agitate her. You can't stay."

"But...I..." William cursed, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. ' _I shouldn't have told her that...I shouldn't have...'_


	50. Finding Jemma Pt 1

_**A/N:** I'm currently working on chapter 55 to this fic, and it seems like chapter 55 or 56 will likely be the last chapter to this part. I plan on writing a part two, continuing where the last (chapter 55 or 56) will leave off. I plan on doing this since (at least in my experience) the more chapters a fanfic has, the less likely new readers are to read it because it seems like a daunting task to read a 50+ chapter fanfic from the beginning._

* * *

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 50:** Finding Jemma 1

Nevada:

It was quiet, the hallway quite narrow and devoid of any end tables or knicknacks. Some framed photos were tacked to the walls, but not enough to make the fading wallpaper feel less lonely in the sparse light.

Outside shadows clung to the yard, strengthened by the dark clouds and lack of any nearby street lights. The house with its narrow walls was all the way at the end of the street, and the only one there that was currently occupied.

"Pah...pahpa!" A child, dressed in magenta pajamas covered with purple and blue kittens, pattered through the narrow hall. Her small feet covered by the pajamas were soft but quick, racing toward a man that had just shut the child safety gate on the stairs. "Pah!"

"What are you doing, cher?" Linnet purred, scooping up the child running towards him, arms out stretched. "You should still be asleep."

"Pah! No 'leep, nuh." The child lisped, her dark umber eyes staring up at Linnet's face. She reached out towards his cheek with her small hands. "You 'urt?"

"No, cher. I'm fine." Linnet cooed, gently pulling the girl's hands away. His eyes widened a sliver when he noticed blood on the little girl's hand. He immediately touched the same part of his cheek as the girl had, feeling the oozy blood. He mentally swore.

"'Lood. It 'lood." The girl mumbled, staring at the red and sticky substance on her fingers. She glanced back up at Linnet, her eyes wide. "Pahpa 'urt? Pah pahpa!"

"It's all right. It's fine, cher." Linnet assured the girl as he brought her to the bathroom, and quickly dampened a washcloth. Still holding the girl, he used the washcloth to wipe the blood that'd gotten on his face, before doing the same to her tiny hands. "See? It's gone. Papa isn't hurt."

"'Lood gone. No 'lood." The girl giggled, happier now that Linnet's face was clean. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his chest. "Pahpa."

Linnet half-smiled at the girl as she struggled to keep her eyes open. He was about to say something to her, when the sound of screaming could be heard. A gagged scream, that reached his ears despite it coming from the cellar. He grimaced.

"Back to bed with you, cher." He kissed the girl's forehead and quickly brought her back to her bedroom. It was filled with stuffed animals and dolls, with drawings taped to the walls, nearly covering them. He laid her down on a low, fluffy bed tucked in the corner and pulled the blanket over her. "Time to sleep, cher. Papa has a lot to do in the morning."

He gave the girl another kiss this time on the cheek, noting that from the moment her head touched the pillow she'd fallen asleep. His lips held a smile as he looked at the sleeping girl.

The next moment the smile vanished and Linnet hurried back to the basement, his eyes livid.

"I told you not to make any noise, love." He hissed at the woman tied up and screaming for help. Not that her words were distinguishable through the duct tape over her mouth. "The woman here before you couldn't listen either."

"Hh ahhl!" The woman yelled, trying to free her arms that were bound behind her head. Her frightened eyes also angry, she glared at Linnet. The man rushed at her and forced her to look over at the right most corner of the cellar. The woman's eyes widened at the sight of another bound woman, lying motionless against the wall.

"Heh." Linnet laughed, and grabbed a jar from a nearby shelf. He showed its contents to the frightened woman "Here, love. If you don't shut up, I'll take yours as well."

The woman's eyes widened further, and her cheeks lost all color at the sight of a severed human tongue, still bloody, in the jar.

0

BAU Jet:

Spencer opened up the case folder he held, quietly perusing the files while the BAU jet was being readied. Take off would be soon and he was already sitting down, waiting for the rest of the team to board and sit. He read the file again as his teammates sat down, attempting to avoid their questioning, worried looks for as long as possible.

He didn't want to answer any questions about Alsie or talk about the whole twin thing. None of that mattered - none of it. Not compared to finding Jemma and allowing Rossi some measure of happiness from the whole Somerfield-Connell scheme. The older man deserved to meet his granddaughter.

"Hey, kid, how you holding up?" Rossi asked, sitting across from the younger man. He didn't receive an answer, instead Spencer acted like he was lost in thought while reading over the file. The older agent sighed, shaking his head. "Reid, you're going to have to deal with the situation with Alsie eventually. If not now, then once we find Jemma. Alsie is her mother..."

"..." Spencer grimaced, his eyes no longer even pretending to scan over the page in front of him. Swallowing and clearing his throat, he placed the folder down before him. His eyes met Rossi's. "There's nothing to deal with. Except this case Fitzgerald's team called us in on."

"Reid, I know you care about Alsie. I saw how you worried about her with her migraine, and when Shelly attacked her." Rossi sighed. "What Connell did is horrible, and...I know I can only imagine how rough finding out the truth about Alsie and you must've been. It'll take time to process. Look at me, I'm still processing everything dealing with James' kidnapping as a newborn and all that came of it."

Spencer just smiled a small, polite smile. The kind that was meant to be reassuring even though things weren't all right. "I'm fine. There's nothing to process, Alsie...Alsie's my twin, it's not..."

"Kid, you haven't even registered that that makes Jemma your niece, have you?"

Spencer faltered, unable to respond.

0

Nevada:

"Nommmm..." Jemma mumbled, still asleep even as she kicked her blanket off the bed. Light peeked in from a small window near the ceiling of her bedroom, hitting her face. She turned away from the light, still pretty much asleep though not as deeply as before.

A few moments later a clock attached to her bed's headboard clicked to the next hour, and started flashing colorful lights and vibrating. It was the vibrations that pulled Jemma from her sleep.

She sat up on her knees and pressed the big button on top if the clock, stopping the alarm. Humming to herself, she crawled out of bed, her eyes alighting on the blanket she'd kicked off while asleep. She quickly grabbed it and tossed it into a basket by the foot of her bed. Next she hurried to her toy box, a fancy one that looked like a pirate chest except it'd been painted pink and sky blue.

Jemma loved it, it reminded her of cotton candy. She opened the box and rummaged through the toys - mostly plushies, though there were some soft blocks and a book or two. She continued to hum, the sound becoming louder though she showed no sign of noticing. Only when she found the pink, floppy earred bunny near the bottom did she stop humming.

"'Unny!" She grabbed it and hugged it tightly, before dragging it with her to a small shelf against the adjacent wall. There were a lot of books stacked on the shelves, along with various boxes of crayons. The large kind of crayons designed for young children.

Grabbing a crayon box and a book of construction paper, Jemma sat in the middle of the room. Her bunny next to her, she hummed as she drew, making sounds and mumbling.

She didn't notice Linnet until he knelt down in front of her; she continued drawing and humming though until he pinched her arm. It hurt, and tears sprung to her eyes while she grabbed the bunny, hugging it tightly.

"Too loud, cher." Linnet mumbled after cupping the three year old's chin and making her look at him. "I know you like humming, but it's too loud."

"Pahpa." Jemma whimpered, the tears in her eyes blinding her briefly. Her lips trembled, and she held the plush bunny tighter.

Linnet gave an exasperated sigh and wiped away the girl's tears with the bunny's floppy ears. Once the frightened brown eyes were clear, he repeated what he'd said. "You are too loud, cher. No humming."

"Ssworree." Jemma mumbled, finally understanding why she'd been pinched. She kept her eyes on Linnet's face, particulary his mouth. The strangle-hold she had on her plushie didn't lessen until she noticed Linnet saying breakfast was already done. "Pahpa, b'eak fahst? Bu' it not time fwor b'eak fahst."

"Papa has to go out early today, so breakfast is earlier than usual." Linnet explained and picked the girl up, allowing her to take the bunny along. He glowered once Jemma couldn't see his face, how he held her prevented it. It was evident that something had ticked him off, and not just the annoying humming. "Damn woman from yesterday. Thought she'd last longer..."

Jemma didn't react to the whisper, but simply held onto Linnet and her plush. The pinched part of her arm still hurt, but it slowly went away as she looked around. She enjoyed seeing her room and the hall from so high up, it made her feel taller. Like an adult.

She made sure not to hum while Linnet carried her to the kitchen, though she missed the fun vibrations humming made. As they passed the door leading to the cellar, she scrunched her lips and eyes, thinking. She wondered if she'd ever be allowed down in the cellar.

"Here we go, cher." Linnet sighed and placed Jemma in her seat. A breakfast plate with scrambled eggs and toast was already laid in front of the girl's spot. Along with a sippy cup of green veggie and pineapple juice.

Smelling the yummy food, Jemma forgot about the cellar and about the pinch on her arm. She hastily grabbed her fork and started chowing down, smiling widely as she noticed the sweetness of the scrambled eggs. Papa had used the special sauce she liked - 'mirin' the bottle had said - which made the eggs sweet. She also noticed that he had mixed some sweet onions in it as well.

"Pahpa, 'ove 'ou!" Jemma giggled and picked up her sippy cup, not minding that it contained her least favorite juice. The sweet scrambled eggs were worth not having the strawberry or guava flavored juices she liked better. When she next noticed that the toast had melted peanut butter rather than butter, she grinned even more brightly. "T'ank 'ou! Pahpa!"

"It's all right, cher." Linnet replied, watching the little girl. He'd already eaten his breakfast, in both the PG sense and adult sense. He smirked as he thought of the women down in the cellar, how they had begged and pleaded. His latest acquistion had cried, pleading to be let go and complaining she was exhausted. She then started to shout and scream for help, and nothing he did deterred her from it.

He ended up hitting her in the head with his fist once he realized the choke collar wasn't enough. It had quieted her, but also made it impossible to wake her back up. He wondered if he'd killed her or made her brain-dead. Either way, she was now useless, it was absolutely no fun if they couldn't feel him.

"Jem, finish up, then go pick out some clothes." Linnet instructed after making sure the child was looking at him. When Jemma nodded in reply he left the table and started cleaning up: putting away the bread and peanut butter, as well as the toaster. The eggs and juice he'd put away before getting Jemma.

"Awll duhn!" Jemma announced, her voice just barely below that of what Linnet considered annoying. He glared sternly at her, at which she flinched and muttered a soft 'ssworree' again. Immediately afterwards Jemma climbed down from the chair and ran to her downstairs room. One that Linnet had supplied with her clothes so that he didn't have to choose between carrying her up the stairs or removing the child gate.

Once in the room, Jemma rummaged through the drawers and boxes of clothes. The urge to hum filled her, but she bit her lip to stop herself. She didn't want to get pinched again. Papa's pinches hurt!

It only took her a few minutes to pick out a purple and blue skirt, and a strawberry-lemonade pink blouse. With it she picked out a pair of yellow and pink leggings, and yellow striped socks.

She quietly and quickly carried it all to the bathroom, where a lady papa had brought home a while ago was waiting to help with her bath. Jemma handed the woman the clothes she picked out, before getting undressed and hopping into the tub.

Leah Crawford stared sadly down at the small child, her eyes terrified. The collar locked around her neck and attached to a hook in the hall prevented her from escaping. And the stub that remained of her tongue after Linnet had severed it a few days ago, stopped her from talking to the child.

Not that it would do any good, the little girl had ignored her when Leah tried talking to her before her tongue was cut. Begging for the girl to get help. It wasn't until after that she realized the reason.

The poor child couldn't hear properly.

Leah smiled sadly, bathing the young child. Her eyes welled with tears.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** End of chapter. I'm anxious to know what you guys think of Jemma. I'm not that confident in writing young children characters, since I have no experience with them and don't really like them. Though that's probably because I find them too stressful to feel anything but anxiety around them._


	51. Finding Jemma Pt 2

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 51:** Finding Jemma 2

Los Angeles:

"Thank you for coming." Sia Aderhold greeted the BAU agents, her carrot orange curls cropped to chin-length. Her cabbage-green eyes flitted from one agent to another, before settling back on Hotch. "I hoped we could get started right away. You've read the files I sent?"

"Of course. We went over them on the jet, and we agree we shouldn't waste any time. This unsub tortured, sexually assaulted and killed ten women between twenty and twenty-five years ago." Hotch replied, he and the rest of the BAU following agent Aderhold to a section set up for the case.

Three other agents were already there discussing things and waiting. When the youngest caught sight of the BAU agents, she approached half-excited though also wary over whether or not she should be.

"Your team already know agent Fitzgerald." Sia started introducing her team to the BAU. "The two agents behind her are Marcus Winters and Sean Crabtree."

The young agent that had approached smiled in greeting at Hotch and Morgan, but faltered a smidgeon when her eyes met Rossi. She seemed caught between being exuberant at seeing the senior agent and being anxious about his emotional state. Since James' arrest, the entire Bureau knew about the unfortunate switch and the doctor behind it. The entire country knew about it thanks to the media!

Cam waited as the BAU exchanged greetings with her team, her eyes shifting from Rossi, to JJ. Whom introduced herself to her as JJ had been always been absent when Cam helped out over the years.

After greeting the woman, Cam glanced towards Spencer, who had foregone introductions to look over the case board. She studied him for a few moments, wondering for the reason for this amount of social withdrawal. Not that she had time to mull it over, as their two teams sat down and started discussing the case.

"Unless the unsub was incarcerated or otherwise incapacitated twenty years ago and recently released, it's likely he continued killing. You just haven't found the bodies." Morgan started off.

"That's what we've figured, though with the ocean so close, it's likely we'll never recover them." Aderhold commented.

"Victim number seven was found floating in the ocean, while the first two victims were discovered in dumpsters. All the others were found along the highway at rest stops." Crabtree enunciated and indicated the map on the board with each disposal site marked. "Those who initially investigated, thought the unsub may be a truck driver."

"That may be less likely considering victims six and ten were found at rest stops without truck parking. And the latest victim was dumped in an alley." Rossi replied.

"...since so many of the victims were dumped along the highway, it's likely the unsub frequents it, even if he isn't a trucker." Spencer spoke up after noting all the disposal sites on the map. "He could travel a lot, maybe even out of state. We should see if there've been any similar victims outside of California."

"If he's traveling, it would explain the twenty year gap between the tenth victim and this latest one." Hotch agreed, about to say more when agent Aderhold's cell rang.

"Agent Aderhold, speaking..." Sia Aderhold greeted her caller, her eyes widening once the caller spoke. "When? Where? All right, we'll be right there."

"...what is it?" Hotch asked immediately, though he recognized through the look on Aderhold's face what it was.

"Another victim was just found abandoned at a rest stop not far from the state line. She's being brought to the nearest hospital."

"The unsub left her alive?"

"Just barely." Aderhold replied, sharing the other agent's incredulity. It didn't take much longer for their teams to be split into groups: one heading to the hospital to check on the newest victim, one to check out the latest crime scene, and one to check the victim that was in the morgue.

0

D.C:

Alsie stared around her, her weary and blurry eyes gazing around the obstetrics wing. Her lips trembled as she recalled being here three years ago, doing exactly the same thing as now. Only back then she had lamented what she had lost and could never again have. Now she regretted what she had missed out on.

She stared down the hall leading to the newborn nursery, trying to force her legs to continue their trek. Her thoughts ran rampant with everything she learned over the last few days: Shelly's anger towards her, the revelation that Jemma was possibly alive, and the fact that Spencer was her twin. Not to mention what she'd just learned from her - their father: that neither William nor Diana had ever told Spencer about her. That they had practically acted like she'd never existed...

"Can I help you?" A man dressed in an orderly's uniform asked, eyeing the brunette carefully. He seemed to be in his forties or fifties, complete with specks of gray in his dark umber hair. His eyes narrowed when Alsie shook her head without bothering to glance at him. "You're not supposed to be here, you should go back to your room."

Alsie grimaced and bit hard on her lips to keep them from trembling, her eyes continued to gaze forlornly down the corridor. Her heart thumped in her chest, loudly enough that it was the only thing she could comprehend. The orderly's voice was crushingly familiar and she felt paralyzed by it.

"I'm sorry, you need to go back..."

Alsie backed away as the orderly approached, her mind scanning through her memories to pinpoint who that voice belonged to. She drew in a breath when a memory from three years ago flashed in her head. 'He talked to James. Before James...injected me...'

She swallowed, but couldn't bring herself to budge or glance at the orderly. Her heart thumped louder in her chest, enough that she hadn't realized her breathing had quickened just as much.

"There you are. We've been looking for you." Tara Lewis, having been the agent chosen to watch over the brunette, quickly made her way to Alsie once she saw her. It took only a second for her to notice the freezing panic overwhelming the petite brunette. "What's wrong?"

"Elsie, what..." William Reid also approached, having not been far behind Lewis. He suddenly stopped, getting a clear view of the orderly before the man scurried off. The mix of surprise and enmity in William's eyes lingered even after the orderly vanished down another corridor.

"...Mr. Reid?" Lewis repeated, confused by the expression on William's face as well as how the man hadn't noticed her asking him to get a nurse. Though more strange was how the orderly that'd been speaking to Alsie moments ago had hurried off.

William's eyes widened as he remembered his daughter's panicked state. He quickly knelt down before her and grabbed her hands. Gazing up at her, he squeezed her hands reassuringly, his mind blank on what else to do. "Elsie, it's all right. It's all right."

He repeated the sentence over and over, holding onto his daughter's hands until her breathing slowed. And continued to reassure her as they led her back to her room. The entire time grateful that Alsie remained herself and didn't switch to an alter. Not that he wouldn't have treated her alters any differently than he treated her.

Once Alsie was calm and lying down in bed, Lewis gestured William to talk in the hall. The expression she'd seen on the man's face piquing her curiosity and profiler instincts.

"What is it, Mr. Reid? That man - the orderly - do you know him?" Lewis asked.

William paused and looked the agent in the eye before shaking his head. "No. I don't."

The next moment he headed back into Alsie's room and sat quietly by her bed, not giving Lewis the chance to call him out on his lie.

"What..." Lewis considered William Reid, quickly realizing that the man had no intention of answering honestly. He had recognized the orderly. It was just a matter of figuring out who the stranger was and how the elder Reid had recognized him.

0

Los Angeles:

The hospital machines beeped stably, their wires leading to the woman lying semi-conscious on the bed. Her face had a large violet bruise across her cheek and nose, while her neck had bruising ranging in color from deep purple to ochre yellow. As did her wrists and ankles.

The rest of her injuries were hidden by her hospital gown, thankfully hiding the worst of the downright savagery she'd experienced. At least the physical savagery.

"...try not to be too long."

Cam heard the physician in charge of this new victim tell Spencer before leaving the room. Her heterochromic eyes studied the unconscious woman. Before they had entered to this room Spencer had made sure to speak to the doctor in charge. To find out what injuries this as yet unidentified woman had.

Noticing that the woman had opened her eyes, Cam approached along with Spencer. She was hestitant however, this sort of thing wasn't something she was used to. Dealing with such horrendous acts done by unsubs to their victims, and then forcing the victim to relive the whole thing through questioning them. It was one of the reasons she never considered officially joining the BAU. Or other departments that dealt with similar crimes.

The only reason she or her team were on this case now, was because Cam's previous team had been assigned the case. After they died and she managed to stop blaming herself, she had gone through her team leader's case files. Most were solved and made for good study in profiling, but this one hadn't been. Cam had obsessed over it after realizing that it had been one her teamleader had returned to over and over.

"Hello." Spencer spoke softly to the woman after noting Cam's hesitance. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid and this is agent Camille Fitzgerald. Do you think you'll be able to answer some questions?"

"...ye...s." The woman answered, her voice very hoarse, and her eyes kept blinking and shying away from the bright overhead lights.

"Good. What is your name?" Spencer asked first, his eyes kind. He waited carefully as the woman said her name, though it took a few tries to make herself understood.

"A...Alic...Alici...a Sum...Summer..." The woman gasped, her voice trailing off.

"All right, Alicia, do you know the man who hurt you? Have you met him before?"

"Sh...shop...he...wa..s...nice...offered...a ride...I didn't think..." Alicia started to trembled. Her eyes teared up, and her voice seemed to have grown more hoarse. "His...his girl...she...he showed photos...he..."

"Shh. It's okay." Spencer said after noticing the woman's elevating heartrate on the monitor attached to her. If he wasn't careful, she would likely code.

"What do you mean, his girl?" Cam piped up, her thoughts immediately on the trace DNA they'd found with the other latest victim. The DNA that apparently came from James' daughter.

"...his girl, she is...so young...'mon cher' he called her..." Alicia took a steadying breath, thinking about the girl allowing her to avoid thoughts on what the man had done. "...and...she...there was another...another woman...or two...I'm not...not sure...her tongue...he cut it..."

Spencer's eyes widened, his cheeks paling a shade. "Who...whose tongue did he cut?"

"...the woman's...she wouldn't be quiet, he said...he said he'd...cut mine...too..." Alicia faltered, starting to panic as flashes of what Linnet had done to her overwhelmed her thoughts. She quickly stopped noticing Spencer or Cam, and started pleading with the man in her memory. Mumbling about her family and children, that she needed to go home to them.

Before either agent could question the woman further, perhaps get an address, the head physician and a nurse ushered them out. The woman's heartrate having approached danger levels.

Once out in the hall, Spencer felt sickened - unnerved. His thoughts, since the moment Alicia had mentioned about the young girl, had focused on Jemma. On the possibility that she was the girl with the unsub - it was likely, considering the DNA recovered.

"Reid?" Cam gazed over Spencer, highly concerned. She had never seen him like this, distraught and fearful. It was unusual, especially while on a case, unless...Her eyes widened as her suspicion returned. "You didn't answer before, but...Jemma's mother...is she...?"

Spencer swallowed, reluctant to answer. He ended up simply nodding, before hurrying down the hall the next second, mumbling about calling the others.

Cam, though confused by Spencer's reluctance to verbally answer - that Jemma was his sister's kid or even that he had a sister, just followed after the older agent.

* * *

 _ **A/N** : End of chapter._

 _I have a question for you readers regarding part of the plot I'll use for part two of this fic. (Which is still around 5 chapters away.) Should I include some sort of romance for Spencer Reid in the part two?_


	52. Finding Jemma Pt 3

**My Life Had Stood**  
 **Chapter 52:** Finding Jemma 3

Garcia grimaced at her computer screens, having decided to throw herself into her work once she got to Quantico. Since abruptly leaving the hospital, she'd thought about Alsie and how the petite brunette had lied to Spencer. Or at least hadn't bothered to warn him of her suspicions that they were related.

The tech analyst had thought about going back and demanding Alsie explain why she had thought it okay to keep such a secret. But then decided against it. Garcia was too angry at the brunette and there was work to be done finding the latest unsub.

"Let's see…." Garcia typed on her keyboard, combing through the list she compiled of men matching the basic profile of their unsub. On her way into Quantico from the hospital, she'd received a call from Morgan. He requested her to search for similar crimes in neighboring states as well as widen her search parameters for the suspect to include residents in those neighboring states.

She glowered at the large number of potential suspects. Even after filtering out men who made frequent trips to Los Angeles, she was still left with too many names.

Her eyes widened the next second when her search for similar cases produced results. Her lips parted in surprise, then horror when she counted the total number of similiar cases. It was at this moment that her phone rang.

 _-"Hello, Garcia, there's another search parameter…."-_

"Seventeen." Garcia mumbled, her eyes wide and stomach twisting. The agent who'd called her gave a confused sound, wondering at the nonsequiter. Something the tech analyst's next words rectified. "There're at least seventeen other victims killed by this unsub over the past twenty years."

 _-"What?" JJ gaped, her own gut roiling at the revelation. Could the unsub have killed that much without them knowing? "Garcia, are you sure…?"-_

"They're scattered all over the country, but seventeen other deaths match this unsub's M.O." Garcia replied, feeling miserable and sickened by the amount of victims. Adding these newly connected deaths with the original ten, made it twenty-seven women the unsub tortured, violated and killed. Before JJ could ask more than a single word 'how', Garcia cleared her throat and continued. "There were only one or two victims per state that the unsub traveled through. Not like the ten dumped in California."

 _-"…." JJ glowered, not at all liking the level of organization and forensic knowledge the unsub's actions suggested. Moving from state to state and never killing more than two per, had allowed the unsub to stay under the radar. She grimaced but then switched back to what she'd called for. "Garcia, Reid and Fitzgerald spoke with the latest victim, and got her name Alicia Summers. Could you check to see if there's a missing persons' report for her? Search neighboring states…."-_

"Already on it." Garcia replied, having started the search the moment JJ said the victim's name. It took only a few moments to find the information. "Alicia Summers, resident of Las Vegas, Nevada. Her husband reported her missing a night ago when she didn't return home from grocery shopping."

 _-"The unsub only kept her a day?" JJ muttered. She hadn't seen the victim's injuries, but going by how Spencer had described the woman's physical condition, Alicia Summer's injuries had been extensive. "Garcia, can you send her husband's number and address to Hotch? He, Morgan, and agent Aderhold are closest to the state lines."-_

"All right…and sent." Garcia replied, she paused the next moment when JJ told her what else Spencer and Fitzgerald had told her.

 _-"Alicia wasn't very clear, but the unsub has at least one other woman, maybe two, captive." JJ chewed her lip, scowling as she thought. "She also told Reid something about the unsub having a little girl…."-_

"…Jemma?" Garcia asked, her throat tightening as she thought about the missing child. Though finding the girl would be wonderful, the tech analyst couldn't help but be terrified of what horrors the unsub may have put the three year old through.

 _-"It's likely, considering the DNA recovered from the previous dumpsite." JJ replied, her own stomach clenching at the same thought as Garcia. She next asked if Garcia had a list of potential suspects, before continuing. "Check to see if any of those on the list have children living with them."-_

"Doing so now…." The sound of Garcia's fingers clacking on the keys echoed over the phone. Her lips twisted and she stared intently on her computer screen while the new parameter narrowed down the list. "And there're eleven with young children living with them."

 _-"Cross off any with more than one child and those with boys."-_

"That leaves five….No, wait, one of them is in prison since last year and another one died two months ago. So that leaves three." Garcia replied, still reading over the information.

 _-"Okay, now were any of them in D.C at any point three years ago? Around the time of Alsie's accident?"-_

"Let's see…." Garcia heart thumped, anticipating narrowing down the remainder to one. Her stomach clenched when the last three were all ruled out. "None of them were. One was in prison, and the other two in rehab."

 _-JJ grumbled and cursed, not at all liking the result. She frowned thinking about what could be wrong in their search.-_

"The unsub stole Jemma, so maybe he's keeping her a secret from his neighbors?" Garcia postulated.

 _-"It's possible she's undocumented." JJ replied slowly, her thoughts immediately on the implications. If the unsub was keeping the child secret, then it was possible that Jemma wasn't receiving any medical care or whatnot. It would also make it difficult to track the girl. "….there's bound to have been something - a cold or injury - that would've made the unsub bring the child to the hospital. Even if only as a baby, after kidnapping her."-_

"…that could take a while, going through the medical records."

0

 _"Shhh, love. Shh." The man crooned above her, her wrists tied to the bedpost. Her throat sore from the chain wrapped around it, and her eyes wide._

 _"…." She didn't make a sound, her heart thumping and her stomach twisting. The tone of voice was one she recognized, though the man using it was different. Her eyes teared up around the edges. 'He's just like daddy….'_

x

"….Alsie?" Lewis repeated, her voice finally breaking through to the petite woman who clenched herself into a ball. "Are you all right?"

"…." Alsie shivered unconsciously, her eyes widening gradually as the flashback faded. Her gaze became more focused on the hospital room. Though her thoughts were entangled in the memory, one she'd kept locked deeply away. It had been the last clear one as a child before her blackouts began. "I…."

"Alsie? Do you want me to get Dr. Freeman?"

Alsie simply stared, her cheeks incredibly pale, at the agent. Her flashback of the man and what he called her, mingled with another. One much more recent though still a few years old. Three to be exact.

Alsie started to hyperventilate, her fingers digging into her palms.

"Calm down. Alsie. It's all right. It's all right." Lewis started to say, keeping her voice level in effort to calm the woman.

"He…he did…did it. He….the one…." Alsie shook and sputtered, her eyes widened in absolute terror. It was bad enough that she'd recognized that intern in the hall, enough that she'd almost had a panic attack. Once she was back in her room, she'd realized who the intern was.

Vincent Crawford, the man she'd thought was her father as a child. The first one who had….She shuddered, feeling sick. A feeling that intensified once her memory of the man knocked loose another. One of a man much worse than Crawford.

The one who Leah Crawford had abandoned her with all those years ago.

"Alsie?"

'He has Jemma.' All color drained from Alsie's face as the truth hit her. Her stomach clenched and her head started pounding. She bit desperately hard on her lip and inner cheek, trying to fight off the blackout that threatened to consume her. It was rare, but sometimes she could tell when a blackout was coming.

"Please…find Jemma. Before he…." Alsie gasped for breath, her breath quickening despite her struggling to control it. "Before Lin….before he….hurts…." She swallowed and struggled to tell Lewis the man's name, only for the blackout to completely envelop her.

0

Linnet smirked at Leah, his fist clenching the chain wrapped around her throat. He pulled it, cutting off her airway just long enough to make the woman dizzy. The tears running down the woman's cheeks were enticing, though her silence wasn't quite as appealing.

It was just too easy, torturing Leah while demanding she be silent. Just as it always was when he cut out his victims tongues. It was only a few he got that far with, and each woman had quickly given up afterwards.

"Leigh was so much better." Linnet mumbled and kicked Leah in the abdomen, his grip on the chain loosening. He smiled creepily, recalling a memory from twenty or so years ago. "She was so young, but….compliant."

His cold eyes were enflamed with desire as he forced Leah to look at him. Her own eyes were terrified but also angry, her body bruised worse than earlier.

"….She never screamed nor cried, not once. Just accepted it." He grabbed Leah's chin, his eyes delighting in the fear and guilt entrenched in the woman's face. "It was obvious, I wasn't the first man who….had had her."

Leah's eyes widened and her cheeks lost all color as she processed Linnet's taunt. What he implied…she shook her head or tried to, only for the man to hold her face still. _'No….'_

"Oh? You didn't know?" Linnet laughed cruelly, reading the woman's expression easily. "Or did you just overlook what was happening, between the girl and your husband, because she was just your personal punching bag, right, love?"

 _'No, no. She wasn't….and I….Vincent…he…._ " Leah trembled, wanting nothing more than to shout at Linnet, but it came out only as a garbled cry. Her stomach clenched as she thought back to almost thirty years ago. When Adrienne Leigh was young….

 _'Was that why Vincent was always buying Leigh stuff? Being nice to her….to hide that he…?_ ' Leah felt sick, though she wondered if she had the right to be appalled considering her own transgressions. She had, as Linnet said, used Adrienne Leigh as a punching bag. She remembered the first time she did so - just two days after convincing CPS to not take either child.

She'd been so terrified of losing her son, Adrian, that she blamed the poor girl for getting sick, and had beat Adrienne Leigh with a belt. Only five strikes and only one which left a mark lasting longer than a day. Seeing that mark the next day and seeing how terrified the girl was of her made Leah feel horrible.

Horrible enough that she had sought out the family her and Vincent took the girl from. Her first impulse was to drop Adrienne Leigh off, as though she could erase the past. Just give the child back and not face any consequence. She didn't have to hear Vincent's objections to realize how foolish that was. There would've been no way to give the girl back without explaining how they'd gotten her.

x

 _-"We'll lose Vinny." Vincent hissed at her, referring to their son. His eyes narrowed to slits as he shot down what Leah suggested. "You give the girl back and everything will be ruined. We'll end up in jail and Vinny in foster care."_

 _"But…." Leah fell silent, unable to think of a counterargument. The sound of small, unsure feet pattering towards them drew her attention. Her eyes widened as she saw Adrienne Leigh was already standing quietly behind her, while Adrian Vincent hurried towards them. It was the boy's steps she'd heard. Her face whitened. "Leigh? How long have you been listening…?"_

 _Adrienne Leigh simply stared up at Leah, her brow furrowing and her eyes moist. "…give…back?" The girl mumbled, or at least that's what Leah thought she heard before the five year old ran down the hall. She couldn't rush after as her son, Adrian Vincent grabbed her legs and cried to be picked up._

 _"I'll get Adrienne, you take care of Vinny." Vincent kissed her cheek before heading off toward where the young girl had ran.-_

x

The sharp pain of something being stabbed into her foot pulled Leah back to the present. Only then did she realize she'd lost consciousness briefly.

"Hey, love. Scream for me." Linnet crooned, his voice sulky even as he stabbed Leah's other foot with the sharpened iron poker. This time harder.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Just a random bit of info, but out of all the OC's I made for this fic, Linnet was the only one that I planned from the beginning and didn't change anything about. Every other OC in this fic, including Alsie, I tweaked a bit since I started writing the fic. (I planned on Alsie being Spencer's twin from the beginning, but I played around with the idea of them not finding out until their relationship progressed further (physically). But just because I'm into twincest, doesn't mean that you readers are, and so I opted to have them find out before anything really happened.)_


	53. Finding Jemma Pt 4

**My Life Had Stood:**

 **Chapter 53:** Finding Jemma 4

Morgan glowered, feeling terrible seeing Alicia Summer's husband breakdown upon learning what had happened to her. At first they had been about to tell him she was still alive, only to receive a call from the hospital. The poor woman had suddenly fallen into a coma due to a blood clot caused by the unsub beating her. The doctors had tried their hardest to save her, but Alicia Summers had started bleeding into her brain. Not long after she was pronounced braindead at the hospital.

 _'Damn…this bastard's going to pay.'_ Morgan seethed in his thoughts as he noticed the photographs of Alicia's children. The unsub had robbed the three children of their mother, and ripped apart the happy family.

"Morgan." Hotch said as he left the room where Alicia's husband was talking with Sia Aderhold. "Agent Aderhold is bringing Mr. Summers to the hospital."

"We need to catch this bastard…."

"I agree." Hotch replied. "Reid and Fitzgerald are on their way. Based on the other victims Garcia uncovered, the unsub's comfort zone appears to be centered in Nevada and not California. A majority of his victims were from Nevada or visiting the area when they were abducted. Centered around Las Vegas."

Morgan scowled, shaking his head. "I can't believe there were seventeen other victims. That makes twenty-seven women this bastard raped and tortured. And who knows how many there are that weren't found."

Hotch simply sighed.

0

Spencer slipped quietly into the driver side of the black SUV while Cam took the passenger side. Neither spoke a word, but simply buckled up and started driving.

"….um…." Cam mumbled, glancing at the older agent. Her heterochromatic eyes took in Spencer's furrowed brow and how he gripped the steering wheel. Though she enjoyed silence normally, the stillness between them felt suffocating. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but…."

She faltered, biting her lip. Her nature wasn't a prying one and she preferred to let people tell her things on their own without prompting. But it just felt too quiet. Like something was really bothering Spencer.

"…I never knew you had a sister…."

"I don…." Spencer began, but stopped. He grimaced and sighed, his stomach twisting. It took a few moments before he decided to continue. "…I only found out yesterday. That I have….a twin sister."

Cam's eyes widened a bit, her attention fully on the few years older agent. She listened as Spencer grumbled about his father never telling him, and about Alsie not mentioning anything either. Cam was about to ask who Alsie was, but swallowed back the question at the raw pain in Spencer's eyes.

"Did…did something happen to your sister?" Cam asked instead. It was a simple question but it caused Spencer to flinch and press the breaks suddenly. The younger agent's heart thumped rapidly in her chest at the sudden stop, and she almost shouted at Spencer for breaking unexpectedly. The look in the genius agent's eyes killed her anger though.

"No….yes…." Spencer swallowed, recalling all that he knew about Alsie. Remembering the bruises she had as a child, and then how upset she'd been when she spoke about her daughter. His stomach clenched. '….why am I angry at her? Alsie….she's been through so much….and it wasn't her fault that I didn't realize sooner….or that she was taken….'

"Reid…?"

Spencer turned toward Cam after pulling over to the side of the road, his habitual reluctance to talk about his emotions lessened. Here was someone who wasn't a stranger and who wouldn't coddle him. Or tell the rest of the team what he said.

"We were dating." Spencer blurted out, then swallowed. "Alsie and I. She wants to continue dating, despite….despite being related. I…." He pulled his lips into a frown, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "She…she also suspected the truth before…before we started dating and never mentioned anything about it."

Cam listened quietly, mulling over what Spencer said. Her first thought was 'that's f'cked up.' She refrained from saying that aloud though, and simply shook her head as she considered what to say.

Spencer, however, continued before she could, mumbling that they should meet up with the others. He started driving again, suddenly not wanting to hear Cam's response.

0

Jemma ran through the living room, her arms stretched out as though she was a plane. She'd seen pictures of many different ones in a book and it was fun pretending to be one. Flying through the bright blue sky, perhaps even touching the clouds sounded fun, and she loved imagining it.

She wondered if the fluffy clouds would taste like cotton candy. They looked a lot like the delicious confection, so maybe….but then again she'd thought the same thing of cream cheese and butter, and she'd been wrong. The clouds likely didn't taste like cotton candy then.

Jemma scrunched her nose as she thought, still running through the living room. She suddenly stopped, and stared at the window above one of the couches. Her rich brown eyes gazed at the sky, considering how clear and bright it was. She wanted to go outside.

Papa was still in the cellar though with the woman who helped her with her bath. There wasn't anyone to go outside with her, and papa said she wasn't allowed out without him. _'I want outside….'_

Jemma pouted, her brow furrowed. It was boring inside, all her toys and crayons were upstairs and the child gate was still on the stairs. Her books too were out of reach. She abruptly sat down on the floor, tears in her eyes from boredom. Papa had taken her bunny plush away earlier, after she'd given the woman a hug to cheer her up. So she had no one to play with.

"Hmmmm…." Jemma hummed, staring at her hands. She smiled, turning her hands so that her fingers were downwards. She crossed her legs and started pretending her hands were sentient creatures; her fingers were their legs and her thumbs their heads. And they loved talking to each other and going on adventures.

 _'Let's go up the mountain.'_ The first creature said, pointing to the beige couch. The second considered then nodded, and soon Jemma was next to the couch. Her hand creatures looked up at the 'mountain', then at each other, then back.

 _'It's too high.'_ The second pouted, but the first simply said that if they climbed on top of each other they'd make it. Soon the two were on top of the couch-mountain plateau, satisfied with themselves and wondering if they should try reaching the tip of the mountain.

Jemma giggled, climbing onto the couch. Her hand creatures attempted to climb the rest of the 'mountain', but even teamwork couldn't get them past halfway. The two lamented the fact, until the second noticed the arm rest and pointed to it.

 _'That way. That way.'_ The second told the first, beaming as they ran to the smaller 'cliff.' The two soon made it up to the top, beaming with a sense of accomplishment.

Jemma laughed joyously at her imaginary friends success, and stood up on the couch. The peak of the mountain aka the backboard of the couch was tall enough that she had to stand on tip toe to reach. She giggled and her hand-creatures stared up at the window above the couch, contemplating if it was possible to reach even higher.

The next second Jemma stumbled, falling off the couch.

Hitting the floor harshly, her eyes teared up and she started bawling. Her elbow hurt as did her wrist, having instinctively thrown out her arm to break her fall.

She cried loudly, and kept crying, copious amounts of tears drenching her cheeks. She didn't notice the angry footsteps ascending the cellar stairs nor the cellar door swinging violently open.

"Shut the hell up!" Linnet growled, grabbing Jemma up from the floor. His eyes were livid and he squeezed the three year old's arms, neither noticing nor caring that he'd simply hurt the girl more. Shouting as Jemma cried louder, he threw her onto the couch. "Quit your fuckin blubbering!"

Jemma curled into a ball, terrified and in pain. She knew papa hated crying, but she couldn't help it. Her wrist hurt! Her elbow was okay, but her wrist continued to pulse with pain. It was excruciating. Why couldn't papa just hold her and make the pain go away? Why had he thrown her on the couch?

Linnet cursed, glaring down at the child. His rage stemming from frustration - first the woman he'd gotten the other day had proved too weak. Then he realized that torturing Leah Crawford wasn't arousing him as before, and he desperately needed a new plaything.

"Pah…pahpa….pa…." Jemma hiccupped, having managed to curtail at least part of her crying. "W'ist 'urt….'urt….w'ist."

"I don't fuckin care." Linnet snarled, not at all in the mood to play daddy. He glared at Jemma, ready to smack her if she didn't shut up.

The chime of the front door bell stopped him. He quickly turned toward it, ignoring Jemma who had no reaction to the new sound. She simply curled into a tighter ball.

"Yes?" Linnet opened the door and narrowed his eyes at the person who'd rung the doorbell. His lips twitched at the man who greeted him.

0

D.C

"Garcia, I think I might have something." Lewis spoke into her cell phone, glancing briefly back at Alsie's room. Dr. Freeman was inside talking to the brunette who had once again switched to an alter: Ana. "I was keeping watch on Alsie, and she had a flashback. I think it was of the incident three years ago."

 _-"…all right." Garcia said, her voice a bit strained as she thought about Alsie. Something Lewis noticed, forcing the tech analyst into explaining what she'd discovered earlier: that Alsie had suspected she and Spencer were siblings before the two met as adults.-_

"That's…." Lewis mulled over the information, her eyes widened. She wasn't as surprised however as Garcia had been. "Considering all that Alsie went through since childhood, it's likely she has difficulty trusting others, and maybe even herself because of her D.I.D. It's possible that her not mentioning her suspicion is because she couldn't allow herself to believe it. I spoke with Dr. Freeman a little bit, and it seems Alsie hasn't accepted her D.I.D diagnosis yet. Despite it being over fourteen years since she was diagnosed."

 _-"Really? That's…." Garcia frowned, the thought of Alsie being unable to trust someone even years after knowing them made her feel sorry for the petite woman. She felt horrible for becoming so angry at the brunette. "But…if she's so untrusting…how did she and James…?"-_

"…." Lewis hestitated, thinking about what else Dr. Freeman had mentioned. The psychiatrist had gotten Alsie to sign an information release form around two hours ago, and so Lewis had been given the brunette's files to peruse. "…She didn't trust James. But was rather…according to Dr. Freeman's files, repeating patterns of abuse from her childhood."

 _-"…what?" Garcia gulped, her eyes widened. Her skin paled as Lewis confirmed what Hotch had suspected: that the brunette had been sexually abused as well as physically. "That's horrible…." She inhaled sharply as she thought about James and what this information meant for his and Alsie's relationship.-_

As though reading Garcia's mind, Lewis replied. "Alsie didn't trust James fully until just two years before he left. Her alters made sure he never hurt her though."

Lewis refrained from elaborating that Dr. Freeman's session notes about Alsie indicated that 'Ana' had been the one conscious during almost all sexual occurrences between James and Alsie. That was until Alsie expressed a desire to get pregnant. Furthermore, the brunette had falsely believed that she and James hadn't been sexually involved until then.

Lewis had felt sickened when she'd read that bit, and wondered if James ever knew or cared about the implications. Though 'Ana' had consented, Alsie herself hadn't….

Lewis sighed. The next moment she remembered why she'd called the tech analyst.

"Garcia." Lewis spoke before the bubbly woman could ask any other question. "I think Alsie knows who took Jemma three years ago."

 _-"What?! How? Did she tell you that? Why didn't she say any…."-_

"I don't think she remembered before. She had a flashback around thirteen or fifteen minutes before I called you. It frightened her enough that she switched to one of her alters." Lewis paused, recalling what she'd heard Alsie mumble. "Alsie begged me to find Jemma before 'he hurts her.' She must've gotten a glimpse or something of Jemma's kidnapper before passing out, and only now remembered it enough to realize who it was."

 _-"Oh! Did she say who? A name?"-_

"She transitioned to her alter Ana before she could give me a full name. But she did manage a partial name: Lin or something beginning with that syllable." Lewis glanced through the small window in Alsie's hospital room door. "You should run it against your list of possible unsubs in this current case. Jemma's DNA was found with one of the victims' after all."

 _-"All right, I'll get right on tha…." Garcia replied, ready to say goodbye and get back to work.-_

"There's something else I need you to look up." Lewis interrupted, holding the phone closer to her ear as she glanced around the hall. Her eyes were scanning for any sign of the orderly from earlier or William Reid. "Could you send me a photo of Vincent Crawford?"

 _-"….it won't be a recent photo. I haven't managed to track the Crawfords since they vanished twenty-three years ago." Garcia replied, to which Lewis said any photo would be fine. "All right then, I'm sending you his DMV photo from twenty-five years ago now. May I ask why you want that scumbag's photo?"-_

"Well, I'm not sure, but…there was an orderly that was talking to Alsie earlier. And both Alsie and Mr. Reid recognized him. Neither admitted it though." Lewis grimaced, recalling William Reid's face when he saw the orderly. Surprise, anger, and hatred had marred it. She was about to elaborate further when her phone beeped indicating she'd received Garcia's message.

She quickly opened it up while keeping the call connected but on hold. Her eyes widened as she looked at the photo, picking out the similarities despite the age difference. Her profiler instincts had been dead-on. That orderly was Vincent Crawford, and William Reid had recognized him….

Lewis' eyes widened. Her profiler instincts screamed at her, reminding her what she'd read in William Reid's expression and body language.

The fact that William Reid had abruptly left his long believed to be dead daughter's bedside suddenly felt more ominous.

"Garcia, can you track Mr. Reid's phone and send me the coordinates?"

 _-"What? Why? Isn't he…."-_

"William Reid left about twenty-five or so minutes ago. And I'm certain he recognized the orderly I mentioned as being Vincent Crawford."

 _-"What?! He….You don't think he's going to…." Garcia's eyes widened, her cheeks growing pale. Though her opinion on the Crawfords was abysmal, she couldn't fathom William Reid going after Vincent Crawford.-_

"I don't know. But the look on Mr. Reid's face when he recognized that orderly as Mr. Crawford…I'm certain he's going to confront him."

 _-Garcia didn't say anything else, her stomach twisted in a knot. Her fingers deftly typing away to do as Lewis asked.-_

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I felt a bit self-conscious writing the Jemma play scene in this chapter, since I have her play _ exactly _how I used to play as a child._


	54. Finding Jemma Pt 5

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 54:** Finding Jemma 5

 **Las Vegas:**

"Seriously?" The lead officer gaped after Hotch explained the situation, that the unsub they were after was abducting women from the area and then dumping their corpses in California.

"Yes. And we believe it likely this unsub has been killing for over twenty-five years, moving across the country for most of it. Though for a period between twenty and twenty-five years ago the unsub limited his hunting and dumping grounds to Las Vegas and Los Angeles respectively. If we could figure out why, it's possible we can then find out who he is." Hotch replied, pausing now and then for the officer to absorb his words. "As well as where he is. Based on the resurrgence of victims matching his M.O, the unsub seems to be once more limiting himself to this area."

Hotch paused before further stating that if the officers could give them all their missing persons reports for the last month, it would be helpful.

"Why...?"

"According to Alicia Summers, the latest victim, the unsub has at least one other woman held captive." Morgan interrupted the officer, who seemed reluctant to comply. Though the victims were transported across state lines, easily making it a federal case, it was always better to have the local authority's cooperation. "Maybe two. We also believe he may have a young girl with him, around three years old. Who he kidnapped three years ago."

The officer's eyes widened. He looked from one agent to the other. "...you're kidding?"

"No."

"...I'll see what we have." The officer replied before heading off to do as he said. Once he was out of sight, Morgan and Hotch started discussing the case while waiting for the rest of the team to arrive.

"Hotch, if we're right about the unsub..." Morgan began, his stomach flip-flopping. His thoughts were on what a sexual sadist like the unsub would want with or be doing to a young child. "Jemma...why did he take her? The unsub who abducted these women profiles as textbook sadist, there's nothing to suggest he'd bother to take care of a child."

"...I don't know. So far he's been sticking, albeit loosely, to a type. None of which were younger than seventeen." Hotch replied, beneath his stoic demeanor his own thoughts were mulling over the possibilities. Based on the reports on Jemma's abduction three years ago, they'd each been hopeful as it profiled as a 'paternal desire' based abduction. Thus making it more likely the unsub would keep her alive and raise her.

"Is it possible we're wrong and this unsub doesn't have Jemma?"

Hotch was about to reply when he noticed Spencer and Cam entering the station. The two younger agents immediately scanned the area and steered towards Hotch and Morgan.

0

Rossi cocked an eyebrow as JJ approached, the blonde just hanging up from her most recent call to Garcia. "What is it?"

JJ grimaced, and ran her hand through her hair before answering. "A situation's cropped up back in D.C concerning Alsie and Mr. Reid. Lewis is dealing with it."

"What sort of situation?" Rossi asked, immediately concerned. His first thought was about Emmie and how that alter had attacked William Reid. He wasn't expecting JJ to reply that Lewis believed she'd spotted Vincent Crawford at the hospital. "...What? You're kidding..."

JJ shook her head, feeling conflicted. Part of her wished she was still in D.C helping Lewis but the other part knew that would mean she couldn't be here helping to find Jemma.

"What about William Reid and Alsie, did they recognize...?" Rossi started to ask, his question trailing off at the expression on JJ's face. He didn't need to hear her response to realize the answer. "...Mr. Reid's gone after Crawford, hasn't he?"

JJ nodded. "Lewis is heading to where Garcia tracked his cell phone." She hesitated. Part of her hoped that Lewis could stop William Reid from attacking Vincent Crawford, while another part hoped the opposite. At least that William Reid managed to rough the other man up. "Garcia's going to call Hotch, but..."

Rossi simply nodded quietly, understanding exactly what the younger agent was thinking about. Who she was thinking about: Spencer.

Though the genius agent disliked his father and was still angry at him for various reasons, none of them knew how Spencer would react if they had to arrest William Reid. Spencer hadn't even had time to come to terms with the fact that the woman he'd been dating was actually his twin sister. Or that he was lied to his whole life. If he immediately had to deal with his father being arrested for attacking the man who took his sister as a baby...

"Oh. Before I forget." JJ piped up, having been distracted by her worry. "Garcia mentioned that she found an old DMV photograph of Leah Crawford. It's twenty years old, but she's going to run it against social media, etc. using facial recognition software. See if she can find the woman so we can bring both Crawfords in."

Rossi nodded, the next moment narrowing his eyes as he thought. "What about the Crawfords' son, Adrian Vincent? Was Garcia able to track him yet?"

"Actually yes. He apparently switched back to his birth name after running away when he was sixteen." JJ replied, though not happily. She sadly shook her head. "He overdosed on painkillers two years later, police ruled it a suicide."

Rossi cursed, immediately thinking that there were just some people who should never have had kids.

0

 **Quantico:**

"Come on..." Garcia mumbled, her eyes darting from one computer screen to the next. One showed the ongoing search and comparison of Leah Crawford's photo against social media and other databases. Another monitor showed the location of William Reid's cell phone - Tara Lewis' was also nearby his location, and close enough to tell if the man was there or had ditched his phone. Thus Garcia was least anxious about that one. Since Lewis would've called by now if the man had ditched his phone.

The last two of her screens dealt with the BAU's current case. One combing through all the databases for crimes similar to those attributed to their unsub, and the other slowly sifting through hospital records, trying to find Jemma. This last one was the most aggravating. And the most impossible.

"I need something. Anything to narrow this down." She mumbled, scowling at the screen directly in front of her. That was until her facial recognition search on Leah Crawford pinged a match. She immediately turned to that one, and searched through the files pinged. "All right, that..."

 _'Huh?'_ Garcia's eyes widened as she pulled up information on Leah Crawford's alias: Leah Clemens. At first it confused her, before striking her as bizarre. Then her stomach churned as she realized the truth.

"That...she was there. She works at the prison James is..." Garcia stammered, her fingers typing quickly as she opened Leah's file as well as James'. Her eyes widened further and her lips parted into an 'o' once she scanned through James' file. "She's the prison psychiatrist who treated James...? That...that means she spoke to Rossi...and she didn't...she knew...yet she said nothing?"

The tech analyst took in a breath, angry and frustrated at the woman.

Her frustration was short-lived as one of her other searches stopped and beeped. She quickly turned to it. Her eyes widening as she read, she immediately started dialing a number. Her fingers clacked loudly on the keyboard as she searched for even more information.

 _-"Yes, Garcia? Did you..." Hotch spoke, only to be immediately interrupted by the energized tech analyst.-_

"Sir, I think I found the unsub." Garcia said, her eyes scanning over the file on her monitor. It was an article dated around twenty-five years ago, about the deaths of an elderly couple in Vegas. A double-homicide, unsolved and going by the date this incident immediately preceded the start of the abductions.

 _-"Are you sure?" Hotch asked, thrown a tad since he'd expected the tech analyst search to take a bit longer.-_

"Yes, since Alsie was able to remember more of her accident and give a partial name, I was able to filter the suspect list better." Garcia replied, pausing long enough to explain about what Alsie had told Lewis. "Alsie had a flashback and recognized the man who took Jemma. She managed to give Lewis a partial name before she switched to an alter."

 _-"..." Hotch's eyebrow twitched as he listened, immediately concerned by Alsie having recognized the man who took Jemma. Not from Alsie not mentioning it before, as it was possible she'd hadn't remembered until recently, but rather he was concerned with how Alsie knew the unsub. He didn't mention his concern but simply waited for Garcia to continue, listening to the sound of her typing.-_

"I was able to connect a name 'Greg Linnet' directly to three of the victims from twenty-something years ago. And..." Garcia emphasized, leaving no room for an interruption as she continued. "I was able to track his movements for the past fifteen years based on his bank and credit card activity. He was not only in the same city as each victim at the same time, but he was also in D.C three years ago. After which he returned back to his home town and stopped traveling, and changed his shopping habits. One guess to what type of items he started buying."

 _-"...baby supplies?"-_

"Yep." The tech analyst answered, the next moment sending an address to Hotch.

0

 **Las Vegas:**

"Who are you? And what do you want?" Linnet leered at the stranger who'd rung his doorbell.

"You're Linnet, Greg Linnet, right?" The stranger asked, his eyes searching the other man's face. "I'm George Alvarez. I wonder if you would mind talking about a relative of your grandparents who lived in the area years ago? Could I come inside?"

Linnet mulled over the question, trying to place the stranger. He nearly invited the man in until he heard Jemma crying and remembered how he slammed open the basement door. A door he hadn't thought about closing in his rage.

"We can talk on the porch." Linnet replied, quickly exiting and shutting the door behind him. The thickness of the door muffled the sounds from inside.

"Mr. Linnet, was that..." Alvarez started to ask about the crying he'd heard before the man shut the door. It'd sounded like a young child. Something told him not to however, the way Linnet stared at him, as though studying him, unnerved him. "I apologize for interrupting you, but..."

Alvarez hesitated, caught between the urge to leave and his gut telling him something was off. He was quite sure he'd heard a child crying, a fact that choked him with suspicion.

After William Reid had told him about his lost daughter, Alvarez had decided to look into things himself. He'd even made a copy of the report his colleague had gotten from a detective he'd hired. A report that had listed the Linnets as being the only relatives the Crawfords had had in the area thirty-odd years ago.

Though it had also stated the old couple had died and their grandson moved away twenty or so years back. It hadn't taken too long to find Linnet, just a day or so.

Yet he hadn't found any records indicating Linnet had a child or anyone else living with him.

"I'm..." Alvarez backed a step away from Linnet the same moment the man took a step towards him. "I'm just looking for some people. They're distant relatives of yours...the Crawfords. Leah and Vincent, I..."

Linnet eyed Alvarez, caught between lunging at the man or chasing him off. A sharp shriek from inside the house stopped him, pulling his attention away from the stranger. His eyes widened as he recognized the crier, and he started to head back inside. He paused once he realized that Alvarez must've heard it too.

Alvarez' eyes had grown wider the moment he heard the sound and he froze, just for a moment. But long enough for Linnet to lunge at him, knocking him out.


	55. Finding Jemma Pt 6

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 55:** Finding Jemma 6

D.C

Tara Lewis' eyes narrowed slightly at the scene greeting her, her approach having halted once she saw William Reid was alone. The man simply stood, staring out at the street thinking quietly.

"Mr. Reid...?" She stepped closer, her brow knit in confusion. Her profiler instincts had been sure that the man was going to go after Vincent Crawford, yet there was no sign of the other man. Though it was possible that Crawford had evaded William Reid's pursuit.

"..." William Reid rubbed his chin in thought before he finally turned toward the agent. He quickly dropped his hand, but not before Lewis noticed the bruising on his knuckles.

"...Where's Vincent Crawford?" Lewis asked upon sight of the deep purple discoloration. It was evident that the man had struck his fist against something, repeatedly. What that something was, was unknown, though Lewis feared it may have been Crawford. "Mr. Reid? Where...?"

"He's gone." William mumbled, his eyes still holding the faraway look of someone deep in thought. Mixed with it was regret, anger and something else that Lewis was unable to pinpoint. "...he managed to drive away before I could get to him. The man who took my daughter...who hurt Elsie, caused her...and I just let him get away..."

"Mr. Reid...William, I need you to tell me what happened." Lewis approached closer, wary about whether the man was being truthful, though everything about his body language and tone suggested he was. "What kind of car? Which way was he headed? Mr. Reid?"

"...is Elsie still safe at the hospital?" William Reid asked instead of replying to Lewis' questions. His tone and expression immediately warped with worry.

"She's fine. Dr. Freeman is with her, and so is hospital security. I've alerted the hospital to his identity so Vincent Crawford won't be able to get to her. He won't be able to get into the hospital."

William Reid started to reply, but hesitated. His eyes roamed over Lewis, considering her before he turned his gaze back across the street. He frowned, the strange but fierce gleam from seconds ago returned to his eyes. "He was driving a white sedan. But I couldn't get his license plate. Nor the make and model."

"All right." Lewis replied, gesturing for the man to follow her. "We should get back to the hospital and get your hand checked out. In the meantime I'll check with Garcia about vehicles registered to Crawford and see about issuing an APB."

William Reid simply nodded and followed the agent back to her car.

0

 _-flashback- 23 years ago-_

 _"You did good, love. Just like that, just like I showed ya." Linnet crooned, his narrowed eyes following the small hands as they let go of the chain. He grinned and took the chain back, pulling it roughly across the room and with it, the woman who it was noosed around. "You learn quickly. I like that."_

 _Linnet leered at Leigh coldly, watching as the girl stared quietly at the woman lying on the floor. The girl stared at the unresponsive woman, and then the chain, before settling back on the woman. Her small hands clenched and unclenched, as though she was trying to massage away a tenseness in them. Or perhaps trying to erase the feel of the chain she'd just held._

 _"..." The girl glanced down at her hands, at the same time backing up so that she was in a small corner of the basement. She leaned back against the concrete wall, her footing a bit wobbly though she managed to slowly lower herself without losing balance. She continued to stare at her hands, not budging nor saying anything._

 _"What are you? Lady Macbeth?" Linnet joked, his cold eyes staring at the girl with intrigue. He didn't wait more than a few seconds for a response, instead he turned his attention back to the unresponsive woman. He didn't need more than a glance to know she wasn't breathing._

 _"...how...how come it doesn't bother you?" The girl asked, her voice meeker and more exhausted than he'd ever heard it. Her round burnt umber eyes stared up at his, waiting for an answer._

 _Linnet chuckled, his tone mirthless when he replied. He knelt beside the unnamed, dead woman though his eyes remained on the child's. "Why should it? I didn't kill this one."_

 _The girl flinched, tightening her hands into fists while also wrapping her arms around herself. She shivered and curled into a tighter ball against the basement corner._

 _Linnet simply laughed._

x

"It's all right. It's all right." Jolene Freeman spoke soothingly to Alsie as the thirty-three year old sat motionless on the hospital bed. Up until five minutes ago, the petite brunette had been pacing up and down the room, refusing to sit down. "Everything will be fine. Emmie..."

Alsie's glower shifted towards Jolene. She shook her head, but made no further reply. Her eyes shifted back to the space in front of her, though she wasn't looking at anything in the room.

"You're not Emmie?" Jolene spoke softly, her brow knitted as she observed the younger woman. Based on the body language and quietness she perceived when she entered the room she'd figured Alsie was Emmie. So the woman shaking her head, refuting her identity, confused Jolene. "Who...what is your name then?"

Jolene studied Alsie closely after asking the question, keen on figuring out what she was missing. If she wasn't speaking to Emmie, then who? Not Ana, that alter was the opposite of demure and would not be able to go long without diving into an x-rated conversation about men. Perhaps Alsie was simply Alsie at the moment, though the silence felt too extreme even for the normally demure brunette.

Besides, it didn't seem like shyness or reserve was stopping her patient from speaking.

"...Discharge me." Alsie demanded, her scowl once again directed at Jolene. "I'm here voluntarily, right? Then I can leave whenever I wish."

Jolene jerked her head back, the demand unexpected. Though the real shock was the matter-of-fact directness of it: through the years of treating Alsie, Jolene never heard this tone from the younger woman. Emmie and Ana had both at one point or another insisted on leaving an appointment abruptly: Emmie because something irritated her and Ana whenever she felt bored. But neither had used this tone.

"Alsie..." Jolene hesitated, before exhaling and giving a little shake of her head. "You're not exactly being kept here for psychiatric reasons but rather for medical observation. Your physician is waiting on tests to determine what made you lose your balance before..." She gestured to Alsie's bandaged wrist, suddenly faltering when the younger woman glanced at it with confusion. Her eyes widened slightly as she studied her patient's expression. "You...you're not 'Alsie', are you?"

"...if I'm free to leave..." Was all the petite brunette said before standing up and heading toward the door leading to the hall.

"Wait, you can't just..." Jolene grabbed Alsie's arm without thinking, her mind on everything agent Lewis had explained before leaving. That the man who'd stolen and hurt Alsie as a child had been seen in the hospital, and that man could be after her. Jolene swallowed when Alsie swiftly turned around and glared at her, the coldness in those burnt umber eyes intense.

The psychiatrist shivered beneath that gaze.

"Al..."

"Leigh."

"Wha..."

"Leigh." Alsie repeated, in a tone as cold as her stare. Unlike Emmie's anger filled glares, which were sharp but fiery, this one was frigid. It screamed less of rage and more of cold loathing mixed with indifference. "It is Leigh. And now, if you don't mind I'd like to walk around. Get some fresh air."

Alsie, or rather Leigh, pulled her arm from Jolene's grip. She barely made it to the room door before hospital security entered, having become alerted by the commotion. Leigh scowled coldly at the two men - one middle-aged and the other in his late twenties.

"Miss, you need to stay here." The first told her, his expression neutral aside from his eyes. Those studied her with an irritated gleam - he had heard about Alsie's altercation with a nurse before, and thought the same as the hospital staff that the woman belonged in the psych ward.

Leigh glanced over the two wordlessly, barely taking more than five seconds on either before turning around. Bypassing Dr. Freeman, she walked toward the windows and stopped half a foot from them.

"This'll do then." She said, folding her hands in front of her as she gazed out the windows. The first hints of coming dusk were just visible from her vantage point. "If none of you mind, I'd like to be left alone now."

"Al...Leigh, I'd like to talk with..." Jolene started to say.

"Not now. Later, perhaps. Right now, I'd like some time to myself. Wait outside if you'd like."

Jolene was about to protest but changed her mind, and instead did as her patient wished.

0

 **Las Vegas:**

Linnet glared down at Alvarez, having pulled the man inside and tied his limbs. His thoughts were wild with whether or not anyone witnessed the altercation. The houses closest to his were unoccupied, but there was always the possibility of a homeless person or such using one of the houses.

"Damn it!" He growled, switching his attention to the sobs coming from the hall leading towards the cellar. Very briefly he glanced into the living room, where he'd left Jemma before answering the door. His eyes widened when he noticed she wasn't there.

 _'What? Where...?'_

His eyes livid, he locked the door and headed toward the cellar. An idea had popped in his head as to where the curious three year old may have gone. The ghost of a smirk briefly passed his face as he recalled a memory of a similar situation, concerning Jemma's mother.

Leigh had been curious too, and once she recovered enough to walk around, the almost nine year old had wondered into the basement. His immediate thought, when he'd seen Leigh watching him with his victim at the time, was that he'd had to kill her. That there would be no way to keep the child silent otherwise.

That was until the girl had simply sat down on the stairs, not saying a word until he was done. Then she had spoke only to say she was hungry. It had been at that moment and the look in Leigh's eyes that Linnet realized the truth. That the girl pawned off onto his grandparents and then to him, had been abused not just physically but also sexually. Further, she viewed it as being normal, and he soon realized he didn't have to worry about her telling anyone.

Linnet smirked as he neared the basement, wondering how much Jemma would grow to be like her mother.

He froze at the sound of an engine approaching, and then that of car breaks being pressed. His eyes widened as he peeked out a side window.

"Shit." Linnet spat, scowling as he caught a glimpse of a black SUV. His eyes narrowed once the occupants exited their vehicle and he saw their vests. "...shit."


	56. Finding Jemma Pt 7

**My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 56:** Finding Jemma 7

Huddled on the basement steps, Leah Crawford listened to Linnet's footsteps approaching. Her arms were wrapped around Jemma, protectively. She didn't know what exactly had happened, but after Linnet had stormed off she had heard Jemma crying. Once she realized the cellar door hadn't been shut, she'd tried to crawl up the stairs.

It'd been painful and exhausting, enough that she almost gave up. That was until she heard small feet approaching the top of the stairs, and then the sound of someone trying to hold the railing. It had slowly dawned on her that the sound was Jemma trying to descend the stairs alone. The sound of the girl almost stumbling had riled Leah up, and without registering the pain wracking her body, she'd renewed her crawl to the stairs.

The second she'd heard and saw Jemma lose her grip on the railing, Leah had thrown herself forward up the stairs - though it was actually more like she stumbled up the stairs - and stopped the girl's fall. Though not before the little girl had hit her wrist and started bawling.

 _'It's all right. It's all right._ ' Leah held Jemma close and rubbed her back reassuringly, too weak to rock the girl. Her eyes burned as she recalled a memory from decades ago. Back before her son had been born, when Adrienne Leigh was just a month short of three years.

Holding Jemma reminded her so much of holding Adrienne Leigh. The girl she had raised as her own, and loved, at least for a few years. Leah held Jemma tighter, silently begging for forgiveness as she recalled what she felt those first few years of raising Adrienne Leigh.

She had honestly cherished the girl, viewing her as her real daughter. It wasn't until she gave birth to her son and started to realize the danger she faced in keeping Adrienne Leigh, that Leah's love for the girl faded. She felt ashamed of her actions now after growing older, but as a young mother she feared losing her son. Her only real child.

 _'It's okay. It's okay.'_ Leah kissed Jemma's forehead, comforting the child and herself as the girl's sobs lessened. She wondered as she held the three year old if what Linnet had told her was true. That Jemma was Adrienne Leigh's daughter. If it was...

She hugged the child tighter.

She flinched when Linnet cursed just beyond the top of the stairs, and brought Jemma even closer against her chest. After listening to Linnet's taunts about what he did to Adrienne Leigh, Leah was sure it was only a matter of time until he'd hurt Jemma the same way.

 _'I won't let him hurt you.'_ Leah kissed the top of Jemma's head, her eyes glaring upward towards the opened basement door. The adrenaline that had aided her scramble toward Jemma was starting to wear off, and she could feel the pain and tiredness returning to her body. She struggled to fight it, but the exhaustion from before was even more pronounced.

Her eyes shut even as she continued to hold Jemma.

x

"Greg Linnet, FBI! Don't move." Morgan growled after kicking in the door, his gun drawn. Cam Fitzgerald and a few officers also had their firearms pointed toward Linnet.

"Hn." Linnet sneered, holding a bound and partially conscious Alvarez in front of him. Moments before the agents had busted through his door he'd grabbed the man to use as a shield. His first thought had been to grab Jemma, but the damn woman Leah had been holding onto the girl in such a way that Linnet hadn't noticed Jemma at first.

The delay it caused had been enough that grabbing Alvarez was his only option.

"Linnet, let him go and surrender." Hotch spoke from behind the man, his gun aimed at Linnet's head. He, along with Spencer and an officer, had entered through the back door. It had been locked but the window next to the door hadn't been, and they'd opened it enough to reach the lock on the door.

Linnet snarled, his arm held against Alvarez's throat in a chokehold. Not at all effective against defending against the agents behind him.

"Linnet, don't be stupid. Let the man go and come in quietly."

"..." Linnet glowered but then let go of Alvarez, pushing the semi-conscious man down. The next second he moved toward the basement stairs, determined to get to Jemma. He made it only a few steps before being shoved against the wall and handcuffed.

"I got him. Go search the rest of the house."

"All right, Hotch." Morgan replied as the unsub was taken away by the unit chief. "Reid, how about you take upstairs..."

Spencer ignored the suggestion, a strange feeling in his gut. Though he'd never been inside this house before it seemed familiar. Or felt so. He swallowed, feeling unnerved.

"Re..."

"You take upstairs." Spencer replied, heading toward the doorway leading to the basement. It had been where Linnet had been attempting to head towards after all. The moment he reached the doorway and glanced down his eyes widened. "Guys! Over here!"

Spencer called out the moment he saw the bruised woman collapsed on the steps, her arms wrapped protectively around something. Or rather someone. His eyes widened as he crouched down to check on the woman and noticed what she was holding so protectively. A young child.

"Reid, what..." Morgan started, his voice dropping off for a moment. Taking in the scene he immediately called out for a medic. Afterwards he approached closer in order to help Spencer. The younger man was gently trying to remove the child from the unresponsive woman's arms. Morgan's heart thudded beneath his ribcage once he saw the child.

"There you go. It's okay." Spencer whispered as he picked up the young girl, mentally calculating her approximate age by her size. Two or three years. He felt his stomach jolt the moment the girl's wide eyes stared up at his.

Jemma blinked, confused by the strange man who held her. Her face scrunched up, the pain in her wrist renewed by the stranger's hand brushing against it. She immediately started bawling. Her deep chestnut eyes filled with tears, her cries loud and shrill.

"Shh. It's okay. It's okay. It's all right." Spencer stood up, still holding the girl, to make room for the medic to help the woman on the stairs. It didn't take him long to notice the girl's injured wrist once they were in better lighting. "It's okay."

"Reid." Morgan began, his eyes widening at how loud the girl cried and how shrill it sounded. "Let's bring her outside. The medics..." His words were drowned out by how loud the girl's crying was. He shared a worried glance with Spencer, wondering at the loudness of the cries. Was the girl hurt badly?

His stomach clenching, Spencer carried Jemma outside while being careful not to touch her wrist, which he noted was bruising. He patted her on the back and whispered reassurances, trying to comfort her. He shared another worried glance with Morgan, wondering if something was wrong or if the girl just didn't like him. Yet he was reluctant to hand her to anyone else.

This was Jemma. Alsie's daughter. His niece. He was certain of it, aside from the eyes that had stared up at him, the three year old reminded him of Alsie. Of how his sister looked like when they met at eight years old. Her hair, her face...

He hugged her closer to his chest.

"Pahpa! Pahpa! Pahhh!" Jemma shrieked, struggling against Spencer. Her chestnut eyes had alighted on Linnet as he was being packed into one of the vehicles, and she reached out for him. "Hyaaah! Le' go! Le' go! Le' me 'oun!"

Spencer flinched at the loudness of Jemma's voice, its high-pitch made more piercing by its volume. "It's okay, Jemma. Calm down, we're going to take you to your mom..."

Jemma didn't react to Spencer's reassurances, but instead continued crying and shouting. Both intensified once the vehicle Linnet was in pulled away from the curb and drove off.

"Reid..." Hotch approached, his eyebrows raised in concern at how much and loudly the girl cried. He held out his arms. "Let me try to calm her."

Spencer scowled at the unit chief's words, envy suddenly gnawing at him. Just because he wasn't a father didn't mean he couldn't... He froze, his chest tightening as he realized the reason for his jealousy, and for his reluctance to accept the truth about Alsie and himself.

He looked down at Jemma, his eyes threatening to tear up. He managed not to, though he couldn't stop the way his lips twisted or his other facial expressions as he gazed at the child. Spencer swallowed, shaking his head as he patted Jemma's back.

 _'...I wanted to be a father.'_ Spencer whispered to himself, his brain delving back to the first thought he had when he'd learned Alsie's daughter was possibly alive. So much had distracted him from mulling over the idea, and then when he found out Alsie was his sister he'd completely pushed it aside. But he had thought - hoped - that he could find Alsie's daughter and then, perhaps, become Jemma's stepfather.

Finding out Alsie was his sister had obliterated that possibility. And he'd felt robbed, cheated, betrayed. Though not by Alsie, but by the universe itself. He'd been silently entertaining the idea of being a father only to be shoved back to being just an uncle.

"...Reid? What is it? What's..." Hotch asked, surprised by the despair and hurt in the younger agent's face.

"...on' be ssad. Don' be ssad." Jemma said, having stopped crying and instead gazed up at the stranger who held her. With her small, unwounded hand she touched Spencer's mouth, trying to stretch the lips into a smile. "Ssmiiile! Ssh'miile!"

"Wha...ah, um..." Spencer sputtered, while Jemma pulled at the corner of his lip. His first thought was about the amount of germs found on a child's hand, and he started to say something to that effect. Jemma pulling on his lips and then his tongue made it come out as gibberish though. "Th' amoun' of 'erms pass'd by..."

"..." Hotch took in the sight, the corner of his lip twitching in a smile. Especially when he deciphered what the younger man had been trying to say.

"No. Sto...stop. Jemma." Spencer pulled the small hand from his lips, grimacing though in a much better mood.

Jemma scrunched her face up, and glanced at the stranger's eyes then back at his lips. Her confusion clear. "''Ow 'ou know my name? Pahpa tell 'ou?"

"'Papa?'" Spencer mumbled before quickly mouthing the word 'oh', realizing who the girl must be referring to. Linnet had kidnapped Jemma and raised her for three years, making him the only parental figure in the three-year-old's life. It wasn't surprising that Jemma would view that man as her father.

Spencer's stomach clenched at that thought.

Jemma stared up at Spencer, quickly picking up his confusion, despite its brevity. Her own confusion increased as the stranger's expression changed, and her lips started quivering.

"...Jemma, it's okay." Hotch spoke to the three year old, his tone the same he'd used with Jack when he was young. "We're here to bring you to your mommy. Would you like to meet her?"

Jemma didn't reply, her large chestnut eyes having remained locked on Spencer's face. She didn't even notice Hotch attempting to speak with her or make eye contact.

"Jem..."

"Hotch, Reid." Morgan interrupted, Cam beside him holding a couple of books. "Fitzgerald's found something."

"What is it?" Hotch asked as Cam handed him the books, he paused once he read the first one's title. "'Hearing Loss in Children'...'teaching your hearing impaired child to lip-read'..."

"There's a few others similar to these." Cam glanced toward Jemma as she spoke. "All in pretty new condition."

"...Jemma..." Spencer, having swallowed as he read the book titles quickly and realized the reason Linnet had them, turned his attention back to the girl. This time making sure his lips were in Jemma's line of sight, he repeated what Hotch had asked the girl earlier. "...would you like to meet your mommy?"

Jemma, finally understanding partly what was happening, nodded her head.


	57. Finding Jemma Pt 8

_A/N: I've recently started playing the game: Layers of Fear and its DLC: Inheritance, and while I was writing this chapter I kept thinking about that game, its eerie soundtrack especially._

* * *

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 5** 7: Finding Jemma 8

Las Vegas:

"That's...?" Rossi's words caught as he saw the child that was clinging to Spencer. His eyes teared up a bit when Morgan nodded, and he quickly approached with his arms outstretched.

"Preliminary DNA testing shows her to be a match for the DNA found on the sheet with the earlier victim. She's definitely James' and Alsie's daughter." Morgan replied while Rossi beamed over the girl - his grandchild.

The senior agent pushed some of Jemma's hair from her face and peered into it, smiling. He started to say something in Italian and repeat it in English - along the lines of 'my beautiful granddaughter', but froze noticing the bandage on her arm.

"What's this? What happened?" Rossi asked immediately, his eyes livid. The thought that Linnet may have hurt Jemma sparked a protective anger.

"It's a sprain. Jemma apparently fell and injured it shortly before we arrived to arrest Linnet." Spencer replied, shifting his hold on his niece so that Rossi could better see her. Ever since he'd picked her up at Linnet's, and started speaking to Jemma about her mom, the girl refused to leave his arms. Even while the doctors and nurses examined her arm and ears.

"Who said that...?" Rossi glowered, questioning the truth behind that assumption.

"Jemma did. She fell off the couch while Linnet was in the basement with his latest victim." Spencer replied, while patting the girl's head. He gave a small smile when Jemma yawned and her eyes fluttered closed despite her effort to stay awake. "She didn't say victim, but referred to the woman her 'papa' brought home."

"Her..." Rossi clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. "That bas...Linnet passed himself off as Jemma's father? She thinks he...?" Rossi glanced at Jemma, instinctively lowering his voice seeing her eyes shut in sleep.

"...it sucks but, we knew from the start that that was a likelihood. Her abduction did profile as a paternal desire based one." Morgan said, his arms crossed. He grimaced and shook his head as he noticed the volume change to Rossi's words. "Ros..."

"You don't have to lower your voice at all, Rossi." Spencer interrupted Morgan, his own expression mixed with frustration and sadness. Before the senior agent could say anything else or do more than question him with a look, Spencer continued. "The hospital ran tests, and Jemma has profound hearing loss in her right ear and moderate to severe hearing loss in her left."

"...What?" Rossi narrowed his eyes, glancing from each agent and Jemma, then back.

"Jemma can read lips and has a decent spoken vocabulary for a three year old, so it's likely her hearing loss started recently. In the past six or so months." Spencer replied, his expression mirroring Rossi's though much less intense. "Hotch and SSA Aderhold said they'd get Linnet to explain what happened."

"The bastard better." Rossi muttered, before calming himself and gazing once more at Jemma. The three year old had fallen asleep in Spencer's arms and was so adorable, her small hands clinging to her uncle's button up shirt.

Morgan watched as Spencer and Rossi fawned over Jemma. He smiled, quietly hanging back so the two could have a moment. Both deserved the respite, after everything that happened. "I'm going to go see if agents Fitzgerald and Crabtree need any help going through the evidence found at Linnet's."

"...all right." Rossi spoke as he took Jemma from Spencer after finally managing to loosen the child's grip on the genius' shirt without waking her. He smiled at the adorable three year old, his eyes moist as he thought of everything he'd been through since that case in western New York. When he found out the truth about James.

"...um..." Spencer grimaced sadly as Jemma transferred to Rossi's arms. He hadn't wanted to let go of his niece, and if anyone other than Rossi had tried to take her, he would have refused.

"Don't worry, kiddo. I'm not taking her anywhere." Rossi chuckled after noticing the forlorn look in Spencer's eyes. "She's your niece, not just my granddaughter."

Spencer smiled at Rossi's words, but it was a slightly pained one. "...yeah...my niece..."

Rossi tilted his head, concerned by the less than exuberant response from the young agent. It took only a few moments and reading the look on Spencer's face as he watched Jemma for Rossi to realize why. He sighed. "Ah, kid. I know things aren't exactly how you hoped, but...you gotta take what life gives you..."

Spencer swallowed, then cleared his throat. "I know...it's just, sometimes I wonder if I'm ever going to get to be a father..."

"Reid, you..." Rossi started, but trailed off.

"...what hurts the most about finding out Alsie's my twin isn't losing her, but rather losing out on being a father to Jemma..." Spencer chewed on his lip, arms crossed. His lips trembled slightly as he cleared his throat, his conscience gnawing at his stomach. "I...while the hospital was running tests on Jemma earlier, I thought about what if...what if Alsie has to stay in the hospital and can't raise Jemma...then I'd get..." Spencer swallowed, glancing at the small child before shifting his gaze down in shame. "...it's a pretty selfish thought..."

Rossi sighed. "Yeah. But, kid, everyone's allowed selfish thoughts now and then. It's part of being human. And, to be honest, the same thought's crossed my mind."

Spencer absorbed Rossi's words, and flashed a small and slightly reassured smile. He was still unconvinced though, that his selfish thought wasn't horrible. It didn't help that the uneasiness he'd felt back at Linnet's still lingered, not allowing him to be as relieved at finding his niece as he thought he would be. Nor did it help that his selfish thought, that if Alsie had to stay in the hospital then he'd be able to take custody of Jemma, was an actual possibility.

He wouldn't feel so horrible if the likelihood of Alsie having to stay in the hospital was zero.

"We should head to the hotel, get some sleep." Rossi spoke, cutting through the silence. "Now that Linnet's in custody, all that's left is to interrogate him and go through the evidence collected from his house. SSA Aderhold assured Hotch that her team can take care of things from here. We can be on our way back to Quantico first thing in the morning."

Spencer opened his mouth as though to protest, but closed it again. He glanced at Jemma sleeping in the older man's arms, and understood. Even if they had been needed to remain on the case, neither of them would - not when it would delay reuniting Jemma with her mom.

"Do you think it's possible to arrange an earlier flight? Before the morning?" Spencer asked instead, chewing on his lip. "...Jemma wants to meet her mom and Alsie...Alsie hasn't had the chance to see or hold Jemma yet. I..."

Rossi simply nodded and took out his cell, while allowing Spencer to hold Jemma once more.

x

"So, do you two need any help?" Morgan asked as he approached the work-space where Cam Fitzgerald and Crabtree were going through some of the things found at Linnet's.

"We already processed the physical evidence of Linnet's crimes. Blood, body tissue and the utensils used to torture the victims were all bagged and cataloged. So not really." Crabtree replied from where he sat at the table, filling out some final paperwork. He seemed exhausted and ready to call it a day.

Cam, however, was engrossed in a pile of papers in front of her, and barely glanced at Morgan. Nor did she bat an eye when Crabtree mumbled something about grabbing a coffee and left.

"So, what's got your attention?" Morgan asked after giving Crabtree a look as the man exited the room. His eyes quickly returned to the papers Cam was sorting through. When he saw what they were his eyebrows rose. "...drawings?"

"Child drawings." Cam corrected, while putting the drawing she was currently gazing over into a pile to her left. She looked up at Morgan before he could interrupt. "I know some of these are likely Jemma's. I already separated some of those that look like a three year old's skill level." She gestured toward the pile on her left. "But some of the other drawings appear to be done by an older child. One with more developed motor skills."

"What?" Morgan mumbled, picking up one picture from each pile and holding them side by side. His eyes widened as he noted the differences. Cam was right, the difference in skill was noticeable. "...damn."

Cam grimaced, not needing to voice the question that had prodded her brain since she first started sifting through the drawings. She could tell from Morgan's reaction that he feared the same as her: that Jemma hadn't been the first child Linnet had taken.

"Mor..." The younger agent started to speak before being distracted by the approach of footsteps. Her heterochromatic eyes shifted towards the sound. She smiled weakly as Spencer entered the room holding a slumbering Jemma, and she caught a glimpse behind him of Rossi talking on his cell.

"Hey, Morgan, Fitzgerald." Spencer greeted briefly. "Rossi's arranging an earlier flight to bring Jemma to...to her mom...soon...sooner..." He fumbled over his words as his gaze shifted to the piles of child drawings on the table. A few seconds later he was right at the table, staring at one of the piles.

"...We have things covered here, Reid, you should bring Jemma to the hotel to sleep while..." Morgan's response tapered off and concern filled him as he noticed the expression on Spencer's face. "Reid, what is it? What...?"

"...these were found at Linnet's?" Spencer asked, picking up the top drawing, though it sounded more like a statement.

"Yes. Um..." Cam replied, glancing from Spencer's face to the drawing he held. It was of what appeared to be two children sitting at a table in a park. Her brow knit in curiosity and she opened her lips to speak but faltered.

Spencer drew in a breath as he put the first drawing down and his gaze shifted to the next one. This one was similar to the first but had an additional figure, who seemed to be pulling one of the children away.

 _'...Alsie.'_ The uneasiness that had been gnawing at his stomach since entering Linnet's house earlier intensified as Spencer stared at the drawing. It was the day he and Alsie met as children that was depicted in the top two drawings. He knew it. Even without going through the rest of the drawings, he knew. His gut knew the moment he entered Linnet's house.

Alsie had lived there as a child. His sister had lived there, in that house as a child.

A house that was less than ten minutes away from his childhood home.

A house on a street that he'd pass by everyday on his way to or from school.

He swallowed and hugged Jemma, trying to chase away the guilt gnawing at him. Guilt he knew was unreasonable - he had been a child and couldn't have been expected to find or protect Alsie. But the idea that Alsie had been, even temporarily, so close by when they were children and that he never realized...nor helped her...

"Reid? What...?"

"...it's no...nothing." Spencer cleared his throat, averting his gaze from both his fellow agents and the drawings. He couldn't deal with this, not now. Kissing Jemma on her head and holding her more firmly, he mumbled a reply before leaving the room.

He passed by Rossi on his way.

"Hey kid, what..." Rossi started to speak as Spencer passed him, the younger agent barely took a moment to reply.

"I'm going to the hotel room to put Jemma to bed." He mumbled without more than a glance at Rossi.

"Wait...Reid?" Morgan stared after the younger man, his eyes a bit widened in surprise.

"...what was that about?" Rossi asked, concerned by the drastic shift in Spencer's demeanor. Just moments ago, before Spencer approached Morgan and Cam, he'd been content if not happy. The prospect of reuniting Alsie with her daughter had given the younger man a sense of relief, of focus that was calming. But within seconds that had changed.

"I'm not sure. Something about the drawings in that pile got to him." Morgan replied, indicating the pile Spencer had been looking at. He cocked an eyebrow when he saw Cam had picked the top two drawings up and was studying them.

"Drawings?" Rossi shifted his attention to the drawings on the table, he drew in a breath as he recognized them as child drawings. "...did Jemma...?"

"We think Jemma drew these here. They're the skill level that you'd expect of a toddler." Morgan indicated the first pile. "But these other ones seem to have been drawn by an older child with more developed motor skills."

"These two drawings are what Reid looked at before leaving." Cam interrupted and held out the two drawings to Rossi. She chewed on her lip as she studied the senior agent's face. "They seem to depict two children at a table in a park or playground. Somewhere outside. And one of the children was taken away by someone in the second. I..."

"...A park?" Rossi took the proffered drawings, Cam's words triggering a memory. His eyes widened as he gazed down at the two drawings, the sketched scene echoed what Spencer had told him a few days ago.

"...we think Linnet may have taken another child before. One who drew those pictures. But there was no sign of another child in the house when we searched, so..."

"That's because she's already grown up." Rossi replied, studying the two drawings side by side. He paused and glanced at the next drawing in the pile.

"'She'? We don't know the other was a girl..."

"Yes, we do. Reid told me he and Alsie met as children once in a park and played a game of chess." Rossi said while holding the two drawings so that Morgan and Cam could see them. "Until Leah Crawford dragged Alsie away."

"Rossi, those drawings..." Morgan shook his head, not at all wanting to believe what the older man implied. Though it being true would answer a bunch of questions. "They could be of anyone. You can't even tell if that's a chess or picnic table..."

"Reid obviously recognized it." Rossi countered, though he too realized how little the drawings proved. He gave the younger man a look, and caught a glimpse of Cam diving into another pile of papers.

"Ah...ok. It resembles his memory, and that's why Reid reacted as he did. But that doesn't prove the child who drew these was Alsie. It could've been a child who witnessed the encounter or..."

"...I think Rossi's right." Cam butted in, her hands filled with drawings from a third pile. These were ones she couldn't categorize initially and had put aside to dwell on later. "These drawings here. They seem to be just of evenly spaced spots, that become random. I was going to look at them later and try figuring them out, but..." She handed the drawings to the two men. "I initially thought of checkers seeing the one drawing where the dots are lined up like on a board, but...it could be a simplified depiction of a chess game."

"...seriously?" Morgan gaped, feeling the last tendrils of denial fade.

"We'll need to show these to Reid so he can confirm, but..." Rossi trailed off, wondering if they should. How Spencer reacted to just seeing the two park drawings was worrying enough, if he saw these others and recognized it as the chess game he and Alsie played...

"...you could send photos to Garcia and have her show Alsie instead, right?" Cam suggested, her eyes darting from Morgan to Rossi to the drawings then back. She grimaced, as though having been scolded, once she saw the look Morgan and Rossi shared. "...What?"

"If we show these to Alsie and it turns out she did draw them, that's going to open some horrible memories. What she experienced from the Crawfords is likely nothing compared to what she may have experienced while in the care of a man like Linnet. The guy's a sexual sadist."

"He also had no qualms about torturing and killing his victims in the same house he kept Jemma." Morgan refrained from adding that it was lucky Jemma hadn't been able to hear the screams of the women Linnet tortured. "Just witnessing the kind of torture he inflicted on the women he murdered would be enough to traumatize an adult, but if Alsie witnessed it as a child..."

"I...I understand." Cam replied, shifting her gaze back down at the drawing piles on the table. She took in a breath, bracing herself with her arms on the table, and glanced at the box of files on the original investigation twenty-four years ago.

"I'll go talk to Reid. You two go tell Hotch and Aderhold about this discovery. If we can get Linnet to admit to having Alsie in his care as a child, we might not need to talk with Alsie about this." Rossi said, glancing at the drawings a few more seconds before heading toward the exit.

Morgan sighed, watching the other man leave.

* * *

 ** _A/N: There's still going to be more chapters to come since I plan to wrap up this part fully before switching to part two. I'm not sure how many chapters it will take. But I'm gunning to finish this fic by chapter 60._**

 ** _I've been playing around with an idea to write an AU to this story in which Spencer was the child the Crawfords took rather than Alsie. What do you readers think?_**


	58. Answers

_**A/N:** I've started and posted chapter one of the AU I mentioned in the previous chapter, about the Crawfords taking Spencer and not Alsie. It's titled They Put Us Far Apart. Please read it about review._

* * *

 **My Life Had Stood**

Chapter 58: Answers

"Yes. Of course, I'll be quick, thank you." JJ said as the doctor she was talking to gestured toward a patient room. Her polite smile faded as her eyes fell upon the woman lying in the hospital bed. Linnet's victim, the one who had held Jemma so protectively back at the house. "Hello, I'm agent Jareau from the BAU of the FBI. The doctors are saying you wanted to speak with someone about the case."

The woman gestured for JJ to come closer, though weakly. Her hand was shaking.

JJ flashed a small, sad smile as she glanced over the woman, at the bruises and bandages. "...Linnet's in custody, so we can wait until you recover if that'll be bet..."

The woman shook her head and pointed to the seat beside her bed, doing so fervently until JJ sat down. She then mimed writing something down.

"Yes. I brought something you could write with here." JJ handed the woman a writing pad and pen, having brought it after being told that the woman's tongue had been severed by the unsub. She flashed another sad but grateful smile as she thought about the report about Linnet's arrest and what was found when Hotch and the others apprehended the unsub. "...thank you, by the way. For protecting Jemma, if you hadn't stopped Linnet from grabbing her when my team came to arrest him..."

The woman froze for a moment, her eyes teary, before vehemently shaking her head. She shakily wrote down the word 'no' on the writing pad.

"What do you mean? It wasn't your intent to protect her? Or..." JJ studied the woman confused by the refusal to accept gratitude for helping the three year old. She continued even as the woman started writing some more. "Do you think you should've done more? What...?" She paused as the woman finished writing and showed her the pad. Due to the shaky hands the penmanship wasn't great and it took a few moments to figure out what it was the woman wrote.

 _'Don't deserve it. I hurt her. I'm sorry.'_

"...hurt who? Jemma?" JJ asked cautiously, confused.

 _'No.'_ The woman both wrote and shook her head. Her hands and lips were both trembling greatly as she scribbled more down on the notepad. 'I wanted to protect her. He said she was her daughter. I needed...'

JJ read the words quietly, unable to read what came after the word 'needed' due to the woman's shaky handwriting. Her face held confusion and a shadow of slowly forming comprehension.

"...Her daughter...? Are you talking about Jemma's mother? You know her? You know Alsie?" JJ asked, not wanting to jump to conclusions even as she tried approximating the woman's age. Or when she noticed the woman flinch when she mentioned Alsie. "Who...what's your name?"

JJ asked her eyes darting from the woman's heavily bruised face to the writing pad. She inhaled sharply as she read what the woman wrote.

 _'Leah Crawford.'_

"You...you're the one who took the Reid's daughter..." JJ spoke, trying to remain calm even as surprise and anger and repulsion filled her. "You...you took Spencer's sister...took a defenseless baby from her parents."

 _'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'_

JJ stopped herself from saying her first thought as she read the apology, and took a few calming breaths. This woman before her - even if it was Leah Crawford - was also a victim. The level of brutality this woman had endured at Linnet's hand was enough to halt JJ's anger. At least at the moment.

"So...so you...you say Linnet told you Jemma's mom is Alsie?" JJ asked pacing slightly beside the bed, caught between leaving and asking more questions. "How did he know? That you had a connection to Alsie? She was going by a different name when Linnet took Jemma. How did he..."

 _'I left her with him when she was eight.'_

It felt like a sledgehammer had hit her gut as JJ read that last sentence. Her lips opened as though to speak several times but no words came out. Nothing she could think to say could express the magnitude of horror she felt. Her last shreds of empathy at Leah being a woman who'd been raped and tortured disappeared, replaced by her indignation as a mother.

"You...you left an eight year old child with...with a monster like Linnet? What kind of mother..." JJ took in a breath, steadying herself. "I could almost understand the desperation you must have felt to take Alsie from her parents. But...leaving her with a man like Linnet...at eight years old...that...if you were just going to abandon her, why did you take her in the first place?!"

Leah shook her head, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she wrote.

 _'It was Vincent's idea. Not mine. Vincent wanted her.'_

JJ scoffed the moment she read that, her lips pulled taut. Her face strained. She flashed the woman a scathing glare before shaking her head and turning toward the door.

0

 _-flashback-_

 _It was quiet. The pacing footsteps had stopped, so too had the buzzing of the television. She held her breath, listening at the bedroom door for a few seconds before peeking out. Her eyes peered into the heavily shadowed hall, and her breathing was as inaudible as she could make it._

 _Swallowing back a gasp, her heart pounding, she slipped into the hall. In her hands was a small flashlight, but she didn't dare use it. Not now. Not that she needed to, her memory of the corridor layout was exact, and she moved through the darkness with ease. The darkness of the hall was not as scary as the basement, that place was terrifying even when lit fully._

 _She continued through the house, finding her way into the kitchen. The dinner dishes were still left out despite it being after one in the morning. Her brow furrowed and she clicked on the flashlight. Outside the wind howled, causing the tree closest to the kitchen window to scratch against the glass._

 _The sound of someone wheezing and gasping for breath made her jump. She immediately turned toward the direction it came from. Her body stiffened as she looked at the collapsed form her flashlight illuminated. The man's piercing eyes glared at her, his hands gesturing toward the phone on the table._

 _"Call...get..." The man spoke, struggling to breathe. She simply stared at him, her eyes absorbing the sight silently. The next second she clicked off the flashlight and dug her small hand into the man's pocket. She took out a wallet and a keychain. The man growled, or at least tried to, instead gasping for air. "...Leigh."_

 _Without another glance at the man she hurried toward the front door. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she unlocked the first padlock, then the second. She nearly jumped and dropped the keys when she heard a crashing sound from the other room._

 _Her heart pounding she unlocked the last padlock, the chain dropping from the door handle._

x

"Al...um, Leigh. I've received some good news that Alsie will want to hear." Dr. Freeman approached the petite brunette, Tara Lewis not far behind her. "Could I talk to Alsie?"

The younger woman didn't move, but remained staring out the hospital room window. Her arms crossed protectively in front of her, and her head angled so that her hair obscured her face.

"Please, we need to speak to her." Lewis spoke, having approached just a step or so behind Freeman. The woman agent studied the younger as she spoke, uncertainty in her eyes. "We found her daughter. We found Jemma."

"Wha..." The thirty-three year old whipped around, her widened eyes and posture revealing that she was Alsie again. "Where? You found Jemma?! Where's she? Is she okay? When can I see her?"

"It's okay. Jemma's safe and healthy. Rossi and Reid are planning on bringing her back on the first available flight." Lewis replied, relieved that Alsie was Alsie and not an alter. Though she did wonder when the brunette had shifted back to Alsie from Leigh. "You'll get to meet her soon, all right?"

"..." Alsie's eyes grew moist and she nodded, her lips twitching. "I...I...where was she...? Who..."

Lewis took a moment, motioning toward the chairs and bed once she noticed how Alsie shook. "How about you sit down? In case your earlier vertigo comes back and you fall."

"...tell me, please. Who took her...was it..." Alsie swallowed, her face pale and eyes terrified. "Was it..."

"Jemma was found in Greg Linnet's house." Lewis answered, guiding the brunette to the bed. Something that proved a good action as Alsie stumbled the moment she heard that name. It was only her proximity to the bed and Lewis' quick reaction that stopped the younger woman from falling to the floor.

"No...she was...he did." Alsie started to hyperventilate, her legs too weak to stand. Though she didn't notice, her thoughts too focused on memories over twenty three years old. She barely noticed Lewis grabbing her hand in an attempt to reassure her.

"Alsie. It's okay. It's all right. Jemma's safe, and it doesn't seem that Linnet hurt Jemma."

"Ah, but...he...he took...he had her in that house...he...did he..." Alsie trembled. She looked into Lewis' face, searching her eyes. "Did he have...anyone...in the basement? A..."

Lewis' eyes widened as she realized what the woman meant. "Alsie, did you know Linnet abducted and tortured women?"

"I...I don't...know. I don't..." Alsie cradled her head and clenched her eyes, forcing the tears to drip down her cheeks. "I don't..."

"Just relax, it's all right. Okay? If you don't remember or don't know, it's all right." Lewis soothed the woman who proceeded to curl up on the bed. The way Alsie curled into a fetal position on the bed and shook was enough to make Lewis regret asking her last question. She refrained from asking anything else and simply told the brunette to rest.

It was as she entered back out into the corridor that she caught a glimpse of Dr. Freeman talking with William Reid. Her first thought was relief as she had wondered where the psychiatrist had gone and had expected her to remain to help with Alsie. Her second thought was alarm, especially as she took in their body language.

Neither seemed pleased with the other.

"...No. Just no. Doing such a thing now would be detrimental." Freeman insisted, her glare aimed at the man and body language showing increasing frustration. "I've treated her since she was a teen..."

"I want to transfer her." William Reid insisted, cutting off Dr. Freeman just as Lewis approached close enough to overhear. "As her father and next of kin, I..."

"What's going on here? Mr. Reid?" Lewis asked, interrupting the argument. Though she understood what the two were discussing from the little she overheard, she wasn't sure why the topic was in question.

"Thank god, agent. Maybe you can reason with Mr. Reid. He's insisting on transferring Alsie to another hospital, tonight. Regardless of what harm it could do." Jolene Freeman spoke relieved at Lewis' approach. William Reid scowled at the two of them, though not quite angrily.

Tara Lewis studied the elder Reid's body language and face. The protective gleam she'd noticed earlier was once again in his gaze. "Mr. Reid, maybe we should talk about this. If you're worried about Vincent Crawford returning to hurt your daughter..."

"That's not why." William shook his head, refuting what the agent was saying. He fell silent the next moment as though realizing that it'd have been better not to have denied it. Shaking his head again he started to walk away, down the hospital corridor.

"Then why do you want to transfer Alsie?" Lewis asked, trailing after the man while she heard Dr. Freeman mention about checking on Alsie. She followed the man, refusing to let him just walk off without discussing things. He finally gave up and stopped midway down an under-utilized hall.

"I don't need to tell you my reason. As next of kin, I can make medical decisions for Elsie when she's unable." William Reid rounded on the agent. "With how unstable she's been lately, it's unlikely she's sound enough to make medical decisions for herself."

Lewis' eyebrows rose and she shook her head slightly, disbelieving the man's stubbornness. "Mr. Reid, I agree Alsie isn't stable. According to Dr. Freeman, she's switched alters more frequently these past few days than she had for the past two years. It's not surprising with how much she's had to deal with recently. Which is why it's best to keep her here, at least for the time being. Besides, I got a call from the team earlier, they've found Jemma. And they'll be flying her over as soon as possible."

"Really? They've found her..." William's eyes widened and glanced toward the hall leading to his daughter's room, his stubbornness wavering. He drew in a breath and then exhaled, mulling things over.

"Mr. Reid?" Lewis muttered, confused by the need for the man to mull over whether to transfer Alsie even after hearing they found the woman's daughter.

William Reid nodded his head briefly, conceding the issue. His eyes were moist and he covered his mouth, choked up as he thought about his granddaughter. The thought of meeting his first grandchild - something that he never thought would happen before discovering his daughter was alive - overwhelmed him. He swallowed, keeping his emotions at bay. "I, uh...um. When will they arrive? Have they left yet?"

"I'll call and ask, see when's the soonest they'll get here." Lewis replied.

"All right. I...I'm going to go talk with Dr. Freeman. To apologize and...maybe work something out." William mumbled and hurried back down the hall, not noticing the suspicion in Lewis eyes.

As the man disappeared from her view, Lewis brought her cell out. She paused, considering the change in William Reid's demeanor since after his confrontation with Mr. Crawford. A confrontation that Lewis was positive had happened despite the elder Reid denying it. William Reid had punched something or someone enough to bruise his knuckles...

And Lewis was sure the man was holding something back. Though she hoped he wasn't lying about Crawford getting away, because if William Reid had beaten the other man to death and was trying to cover it up...

Lewis sighed.

0

"You're sure? Leah Crawford is the victim found at Linnet's house?" Hotch asked, pausing while JJ confirmed it. His eyes widened slightly, his jaw becoming more taut when JJ revealed what else she discovered. "All right. Meet up with Morgan and tell him what you found out. I'll join you shortly after Aderhold and I finish up here."

He paused, listening once again. He glanced over toward Aderhold as the woman approached.

"No. We haven't. Linnet's already asked for a lawyer, so we haven't been able to question him. There's been some trouble getting a lawyer willing to represent Linnet. George Alvarez, the guy Linnet attacked just before we apprehended him, is well-known and well-respected among his colleagues at the local law firms." Hotch spoke, staring through the one-way glass at Linnet sitting in the interrogation room. "An attorney from out of state is being called in to avoid any possible conflict of interest. No one wants to risk Linnet going free because his lawyer was biased against him and failed to represent him fairly." He paused briefly and then finished up the conversation, reiterating that JJ should meet up with the others. He then put away his phone.

"Linnet's lawyer won't get here until the morning." Aderhold said without waiting for the other agent to do more than put his phone in his pocket. "We won't be able to question him until then."

Hotch nodded and stared at Linnet through the interrogation room window. His lips and facial muscles were stoic though his eyes glowered angrily at the man. After what JJ had just told him, and after all the secrets and lies the team had uncovered since discovering James, he was fed up. Seeing what Rossi was going through, what with dealing with the aftermath of what James had become - he couldn't imagine if something like that happened with Jack. It was a nightmare, just considering it.

And he had thought about it since they found and arrested James. The idea that some monster would take a federal agent's kid and warp them deliberately into the sort of unsub they hunted...it was mind-boggling and upsetting. It was also nothing short of an attack on them, on his team. Even if it happened long before he joined the BAU, before the BAU really existed, it still felt like an attack.

And now after learning that Connell and Somerfield's scheme had affected another agent on his team, he found it hard not to take it personally. Even though he knew Spencer's sister being taken as a newborn wasn't a deliberate attack on the Bureau - Connell couldn't have known Spencer would eventually join the FBI - it felt just as aggravating.

Though Linnet's connection to the scheme was minimal at most, he needed to be sure. He needed to know there weren't any more horrible surprises waiting for them. And he also needed to know what Linnet did to Alsie and why he had taken Jemma. Even more importantly, Hotch needed to know how Linnet know the name Alsie and James had picked for their daughter.

Jemma hadn't even been born when Linnet kidnapped her, and hadn't been officially named. So how had Linnet known the name her parents had picked for her? It wasn't a coincidence - Jemma wasn't that common of a name - Linnet had to have known it beforehand.

Someone had to have told him the name. Either James or Alsie or someone the two knew. That someone had put Linnet onto Alsie's trail, culminating in his attack on her three years ago to kidnap Jemma. That same someone had to have known what Leah Crawford just told JJ: That Leah had left Alsie with Linnet as a child.

"Agent Hotchner?" Sia Aderhold looked at him, concerned by his silence and the anger in his eyes. "My team can handle the questioning, so you and your team can take Jemma to her mother in the morning."

"Rossi and Reid are already going to do that on the next available flight back. The rest of us can stay and help with the questioning."

"...are you sure that's wise? Two of your agents are connected to the child Linnet had with him. Your team is also close knit. Are you sure it's wise for any of you to question Linnet?"

Hotch quietly glowered at Aderhold, understanding her concern, but not liking her stance one bit. She wasn't part of the BAU, and had never been in the field going after the sort of unsubs they encountered weekly. Aderhold worked white-collar and identity theft type of crimes. The only reason her team got hold of Linnet's case, was because Cam Fitzgerald's first team had handled the original investigation.

"...Hotchner..."

"Fitzgerald can do the questioning. She has more experience with people like Linnet than you or your other agents. She's worked enough cases with the BAU to know how to get someone like Linnet to talk." Hotch replied, noting how taken aback agent Aderhold was by his comment on her deficit in experience. "With all due respect, agent Aderhold, you only ever worked white collar crimes and you're excellent at it. And at managing a team. But agent Fitzgerald does have more experience with violent offenders, both from her time with the BAU and with her original team. Further..." Hotch paused briefly. "She's proven her ability to be unbiased even if she has a personal connection to a case."

"You're referring to her brother and what happened with her old team."

"Yes."

"...fine. Fitzgerald can question Linnet. In the morning, after his lawyer gets here." Aderhold said, her expression and tone allowing no room for dissent.


	59. Chapter 59: And Carried Me Away

**AuthorNote: The title of part two is  And Carried Me Away, please give it a read if you enjoyed this story.**

* * *

 **My Life Had Stood**

 **Chapter 59:**

 _-flashback-_

 _"You're lying." He spat, glaring at the other man who laughed and nursed a bloody lip. His eyes narrowed and he grabbed the other man by the collar, shaking him. "That's all a lie!"_

 _The man shook his head, grinning with malignant glee. "It's all in the autopsy report. The poison was injected into her stomach, and the puncture glued shut. There's no doubt it was deliberate."_

 _"You're a lying s..."_

x

"...Mr. Reid?"

William Reid awoke abruptly at the sound of his name and the gently shaking of his shoulder. Jet-lag exhaustion seemed to have finally kicked in, he realized, as he blinked away the remnants of slumber. His senses quickly focused on the hospital sounds and bright lights. He glanced up and saw Tara Lewis leaning above him and the chair he'd fallen asleep on.

"Mr. Reid, I got a call a short while ago that Rossi's and your son's plane landed and that they should get here within an half hour with Jemma." Lewis spoke, smiling briefly. "I was just about to wake and inform Alsie."

"Yes. All right...I...Els...Jem..." William drew in a breath as the memory of all that had happened returned as sleep withdrew.

"You should be there to meet Jemma too." Lewis continued, as the man got to his feet. She faltered briefly and bit her lip, her thoughts wrapped around one tidbit of information she hadn't shared. "Mr. Reid, there's...there's something about Jemma that I haven't mentioned. I wasn't sure how Alsie would take it and I didn't want to upset her more than she was already, so I didn't mention it, but..."

"What is it? Is Jemma all right? She's healthy, right?" William immediately tensed, his eyes darting over Lewis' face and body to not miss a single twitch or gesture. Having found out about Jemma and being unable to help bring her back, he'd looked up what had happened three years ago. It hadn't taken him long to find articles about the abduction and his thoughts kept straying to all the possible things that could've gone wrong.

"..." Lewis made a face as she mulled over what to say. "Jemma was given a preliminary check-up exam after being recovered and is currently healthy, physically and developmentally, but...she has severe hearing loss in both ears. There's no medical records on her, so we don't know why or how, but..."

"...she's deaf?" Alsie mumbled, her meek voice surprising both her father and the agent. Their eyes widened on sight of the four foot eight woman staring at them, her lips quivering though her hair shadowed her eyes. "Jemma is...my baby is..."

"Elsie, it's all right." William rushed to his daughter, practically pushing Lewis aside.

"...is it my fault? Was it...the abduction? Did something happen then...? Or did Linnet...?" Alsie trembled, while her father hesitated in front of her. He'd been about to hug her to comfort her but then remembered Dr. Freeman's warning. Instead he reached for Alsie's hands.

"Els..." William whispered, crouching so that he could see his daughter's face despite the height difference. His heart stopped as he heard the pain in his daughter's voice.

"...I peeked into his basement one night...he was there and there was a lady...she was tied up...bleeding from her ears...I don't..." Alsie's wide eyes stared at the floor unseeing, focused instead on a sudden memory. She took in a shuddering breath, her eyes growing moist as she attempted to not break down. "Please...tell me it wasn't...that he didn't hurt...Jem...that she's...because he..."

"The doctor found no indication that Jemma was abused by Linnet." Lewis reassured the petite woman, who trembled and barely looked up. She heard the woman sniffle and clear her throat. "Nor is there any indication that Jemma's hearing loss was caused by trauma from the abduction. She can speak fairly intelligibly for her age, so the doctor who examined her presumes her hearing loss started recently. There are no medical records on Jemma, and it's unlikely Linnet had her immunized, so the doctor thinks she may have come down with an illness some months ago that caused her hearing loss. At least that's what the M.E told Rossi and Reid."

William squeezed his daughter's hands, trying to reassure her when he noted the wetness of her cheeks. "It's all ri..."

"I should've remembered. Uhm...if I...if I'd remembered the abduction...if I'd remembered Linnet being the one...in the car...then Jemma..." Alsie swallowed, her eyes burning and stomach twisted into a knot. "...I'd have had her back sooner...maybe even James...he wouldn't have..."

"...none of it is your fault." William squeezed her hands in lieu of a hug, his thoughts lit with surprise at her last comment. He'd successfully avoided thinking about Jemma's father so far, not wanting to mull over that murky topic. It wasn't that he hadn't believed Rossi when the man said it was unlikely that James had forced Alsie, but rather his protectiveness of his daughter stopped him from accepting it fully.

"Alsie, um..." Lewis started to reply, caught less off-guard by Alsie's comment about James than William, but still surprised. The petite woman knew about James' crimes from the article about him and she didn't seem naive; so hearing Alsie suggest James wouldn't have committed his most recent crimes if Jemma hadn't been taken threw her. "James...he'd already attacked three women before he met you..."

William Reid glared at Lewis, having not known about that fact. It hadn't been mentioned in any of the articles he'd read. The agent didn't miss his glare, but was more focused on the look Alsie gave.

The petite woman's glower was indescribable in a single word. Her eyes were sharp and narrow, and her lips pressed into a thin line that betrayed nothing. Yet Lewis noticed it. It was brief, but she noticed the surprise in Alsie's eyes and the defensiveness, both which shifted into confusion before being hidden behind an expressionless glower.

Lewis wasn't sure but thought that Alsie had been about to say something in response, but had stopped herself. Before Lewis could question the other woman about it, the sound of an elevator dinging down the hall and then that of familiar voices, drew their attention.

"We're almost there, Jemma." Rossi spoke to the three year old, whom he carried in his arms, making sure she was looking at his lips so she knew what he was saying. He exited the elevator holding Jemma, Spencer next to him.

"Rossi, I..." Spencer mumbled, an envious glint in his eyes and tone. He reached for his niece, wanting to take her back into his arms.

"Kid, you got to hold and fuss over Jemma before and during the flight here." Rossi replied, eyebrows raised as he read the younger agent easily. He felt bemused. "As her grandfather, it's my turn to carry and fuss over Jemma."

"Yeah, but...I, um..." Spencer mumbled, a sad smile tugging at his lips. He gazed at Jemma in Rossi's arms, and tried to ignore the envy he felt, as well as the sense of bereft that gnawed at his stomach.

"S..."

A different feeling hit him suddenly, one that he couldn't quite describe except as an overwhelming relief and joy...and uncertainty. It was this last emotion that made him shift his gaze from Jemma and towards those who waited down the corridor. He realized quickly the truth behind what he felt the exact moment he saw Alsie. The look in her eyes and in her face a split second before she rushed forward held the same mix of emotions he'd just felt.

'Alsie...' He thought, as the woman - his sister - hurried forward, her eyes locked on the child Rossi held. On Jemma. He understood, without explanation or thought, what Alsie was feeling. He felt it too, and as Alsie reached for Jemma, he was more aware than ever that Alsie and he were twins, not just siblings.

"Jem...Jemma..." Alsie grabbed her daughter from Rossi and held her close, mumbling her name. Tears blurred her vision as she hugged her daughter, refusing to let the girl go for even a second. "My Jemma."

"...hmm, nnh. 'Eggo!" Jemma fidgeted, surprised and overwhelmed by being pulled so suddenly away from Rossi. It was strange being held so close and tightly by another, and she pouted not sure what had happened. Or who it was who grabbed her.

Alsie tensed at Jemma fighting against her, her stomach tightening at the rejection. It terrified her and hit her chest like a knife. She nearly trembled. Then she remembered what Lewis had said just moments before - Jemma had severe hearing loss in both ears.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Alsie loosened her arms wrapped around her daughter, allowing the girl to see her face. Her vision was blurry as she looked upon Jemma, her hands cupping the girl's cheeks both as a compromise to hugging and as a method to make sure Jemma saw her speak. "I..."

"She can read lips..." Alsie heard someone mumble, but was too distracted to place who. She swallowed back a sob threatening to escape, and took in a breath to steady her racing heart. It took a second longer for her brain to comprehend what the mumble had said, when it did she felt her lips twitch.

"Umhm. 'Eggo." Jemma pouted, staring at the stranger's face. Her deep brown eyes widened slightly at sight of the woman's wet cheeks. Curious, she reached out and touched Alsie's cheek. "Why 'ou cry?"

"You...you're my Jemma. My baby." Alsie stumbled over her words, struggling against just holding her daughter tightly. She didn't need an explanation - just seeing Jemma in Rossi's arms had been enough. Her maternal instinct just knew. Jemma, however, needed to be told. She gently touched her daughter's hand as it caressed her cheek. "...I...I'm Alsie...I'm your momma. I..."

"..." Jemma furrowed her eyebrows and puckered her lips together in thought. She'd been told by the dark haired man and the thin man, who had introduced themselves as her grandpa and uncle respectively, that they were bringing her to her momma. She'd also been told that papa Linnet had lied to her about being her papa, and that he'd taken her from her momma as a baby. Learning that she'd finally be able to meet her momma had excited her, but she was confused. "...'ou not dead? Pahpa say 'ou die."

Alsie's eyes widened, taken aback. It took a slight effort to understand her daughter's speech, which either dropped or oddly emphasized the consonants in favor of the vowel sounds. But she understood it quick enough to be thrown off by the word 'papa.'

"Hey." Spencer knelt down immediately, understanding Alsie's shock and confusion. He took her hand into his, to reassure her. "She means Greg Linnet, Alsie. Not..." He winced as the petite woman squeezed his hand painfully once he mentioned Linnet.

"...he..." Alsie clenched her teeth, her stomach knotting. "...that man isn't your father, Jemma. He's not. Don't..."

Jemma flinched at the sudden harshness to Alsie's tone of voice as well as the fury in her eyes. It confused and terrified her, and she felt overwhelmed. Her joy and excitement at getting to meet her momma, which had so far overpowered her separation anxiety for Linnet, suddenly waned. " 'e's pahpa! I wan' pahpa! Pahpa!"

Alsie froze when Jemma started screaming, and the three-year-old batted away the thirty-three-year old's arms. Her chest and stomach tensed, and it felt like a tidal wave just crashed over her. Her vision blurred and her head started throbbing, her stomach felt like it was being ripped open again as a flashback from three years ago filled her brain.

She was so overwhelmed that she didn't realize until she heard Spencer telling her to breathe slowly that she was hyperventilating. It was also that moment, after noticing that Jemma's screaming had stopped, that she realized what had seemed like seconds to her must've been minutes or longer.

"It's all right. Breathe." Spencer whispered soothingly, kneeling in front of Alsie. Behind him, down the corridor, Rossi once again held Jemma. The three-year-old stared at Alsie with wide eyes, terrified. "Just breathe." Spencer mumbled while Dr. Freeman and a few nurses came to help.

0

Elsewhere:

"Yeah, I know. I saw the articles." A woman, with burgundy hair dolled up in a large butterfly hair-clip, spoke into her cell phone. Her tone banal. The sound of her heels clacking on the parking garage pavement could be heard as she headed to her car. She paused walking briefly, listening to the other end's reply, surprised. "No. No, I won't comment. What you're hinting at is just not possible. It's not."

The beep of a car alarm being deactivated echoed in the parking garage as she approached the driver side of her car. She shook her head and got in, annoyed by the person on the other end of the call. An annoyed tsk sound escaped her lips, her tolerance waning.

"Look, he would've been no more than two when that incident took place." She chewed on her lip, close to hissing at her caller. "Besides, there was another identical case five years before the one you mentioned. The man would not even been born, maybe not even thought of by his parents. It's impossible, what you suggest."

The woman rolled her eyes as the words possession and reincarnation escaped her caller and entered her ears. She rubbed her brow and sat back in the driver's seat, shaking her head. It took all her remaining calm not to laugh derisively at the other person.

"Auntie, I love you, but you're wrong about a connection between those cases from almost forty years ago and those that man's son did." She sighed, not wanting to hang up but not wanting to continue the current conversation. Her eyes, a bright green, shot open at what her aunt said next. "I know that, okay? You don't think I want to catch the one who did that to her? You don't think I want to catch the monster who ruined my life before I was out of diapers? I loved her too, auntie. She was my mother."

The woman tensed, hissing a goodbye before hanging up. She tossed the phone onto the passenger seat before turning on the ignition. Before she got the engine to turn over, a large van drove up behind her car, blocking her in.

"What the hell?!" She cursed, the anger from her just ended conversation bursting forth. She quickly exited the car, furious at the driver of the van. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Move!"

She was nearly ready to kick the van when it drove off, the driver flipping her off as he continued on toward an empty parking space. Realizing belatedly that the van had merely paused in front of her vehicle while waiting for another car to vacate its space, she groaned.

"...stupid. Damn it." She mumbled and returned to her car, entering the driver side without pause. Not even glancing at the passenger seat until she was buckled in. Her eyes widened as she noticed her cell phone was no longer on the seat. "...What? Where did it...?"

A click from behind her drew her attention, her stomach clenching. Her cheeks lost all color as she peeked into her rear-view mirror and saw a man in the back seat, pointing a gun directly at the back of her head.

"We're going on a little trip. Drive." The man hissed, pushing the gun barrel up against the back of the woman's head. "And don't think I won't press the trigger."

The woman trembled.

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 **A/N: End of the first part of My Life Had Stood. I have a lot planned for part two (titled: And Carried Me Away), one of which is delving into why James was taken as a newborn, as well as the reason behind Somerfield's experiments.**


	60. Temporary Author Note

**Temporary Author Note:**

Just wanted to make sure that those of you who liked this fic, My Life Had Stood, and are interested in the sequel, to know that I've posted the sequel.

The title is And Carried Me Away: My Life Had Stood Part 2.  


* * *

Here's a short preview:

Slivers of light from the morning sun sneaked into the room through the curtains, highlighting the face of the man in the bed slumbering away. A book lay on his chest and it was clear that he'd fallen asleep reading, though not because it was boring.

The dark bags under his eyes were evidence of his exhaustion. As too was the fact that his alarm clock was blaring, yet he remained oblivious to it. It wasn't until a pair of small feet pattered towards him and a small child climbed onto the bed that his consciousness drifted out of REM sleep.

"Unc' 'Encer! Unc' 'Encer! Wak'up!" Jemma shook the man, Spencer, her voice shifting from loud to soft haphazardly. She gazehd down at him, as the alarm and her voice drew him out of sleep. Not fast enough for the three-year-old, who proceeded to force his eyes open with her fingers.

He instinctively pulled away, blinking and rubbing his assaulted eye.


End file.
